


Cracked Mirror

by imaginexwriter9



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo, Cussing, Gen, Origin Story, Relationship starts off well, Shino Academy, Shuuhei is more cynical in this story, Story starts off slow but it's getting there, Young Hisagi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-07-10 13:38:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6987271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginexwriter9/pseuds/imaginexwriter9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zanpakuto are like mirrors: they are reflections of their owners' power and soul. They represent their true self. So how did Shuuhei Hisagi, a highly respected and honorable lieutenant, end up with such a bloodthirsty weapon?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Empty Room

**Author's Note:**

> Rating: T
> 
> Genre: Adventure, General
> 
> Characters: Shuuhei Hisagi, Kazeshini
> 
> Summary: Zanpakuto are like mirrors: they are reflections of their owners' power and soul. They represent their true self. So how did Shuuhei Hisagi, a highly respected and honorable lieutenant, end up with such a bloodthirsty weapon?
> 
> This story will take place during Hisagi's childhood until the Soul Society Arc.
> 
> Inspiration: I've thought of this story a while back when I just finished reading 'Hollow Feelings' (a very good read and I highly recommend it). Hisagi has always been my favorite Bleach character and I've always wondered how he managed to get a polar opposite sword spirit despite how Zanpakuto are supposed to reflect their owners.
> 
> I will be focusing on Hisagi's past, his thoughts and feelings as he enters the Academy, and how he eventually becomes the lieutenant we come to know in Bleach.
> 
> This is my first attempt at writing a Bleach fanfic so I may end up getting some of the Japanese terms incorrectly. I welcome any good constructive criticism, so don't be afraid to review and tell me what you think.
> 
> Enjoy!

Shuuhei Hisagi was _stressed_.

He walked down the aisle of the Squad Nine barracks briskly, a file of papers always in hand, and the sound of his Zanpakuto, Kazeshini clinging against his side familiarly as he shoved past his hurried subordinates.

"Have you heard?" one of his subordinates said in a whisper as he went passed. "Captain Tousen has deserted us!"

"What? Our Captain, a traitor?" another exclaimed. "That can't be…"

"I saw them myself!" his tenth seat claimed. "Tousen was with the Squad 3 and 5 Captains. I even heard the Head commander Yamamoto couldn't do anything to stop them from escaping!"

"I can't imagine how Lieutenant Hisagi is feeling right now," one of his female officers muttered; her tone sympathetic. "The two of them were always close…"

Hisagi finally reached the entrance of his office, shutting the door quickly to silence out the gossip. He let out a tired sigh as he glanced around his office with weary eyes.

His desk, which used to be so neat and tidy, was now littered to the brim with papers. There were also boxes of files on the floor. His completed pile of his subordinates' medical records appeared minimal in comparison, even though he had pulled an all-nighter signing the documents.

Hisagi walked towards his filing cabinet and shoved the paperwork in. Once he had done that, he started dealing with the paperwork on his crowded desk. He didn't know how much time had passed when he finished sorting them while signing a couple in the process. His hand was aching, and his back had gone stiff from sitting too long.

It was already late afternoon as Hisagi finally got up. He flexed his arms and walked around his office in a leisurely pace for a few moments, making sure not to bump into the boxes. He suddenly remembered something he needed at his Captain's office, and after grabbing a few files, he was set on his way.

Squad nine had always been an energetic division, even more so after Tousen's abrupt departure just three days ago. Some of his officers were still resting in the Squad four barracks. Speaking of the injured, Momo Hinamori still hasn't woken up, and her condition worried him, Captain Hitsugaya, and many others immensely. He could not fathom how Squad Five was functioning without their Captain and Lieutenant. However, he was relieved to hear that his friend Renji has recovered and would be resuming his duties soon.

He entered his Captain's office quietly, placing a new stack of completed work along with the others on a nearby table. He took in the lightly lit room, the familiar calm atmosphere, and of course, the empty chair behind the desk.

_It's like he never left_ , Hisagi thought. He could even see Sokyoku Hill from the window, and was briefly reminded of the events that had taken place. He swallowed uncomfortably, and turned his gaze away from the window and towards his captain's old desk.

He placed Kazeshini on the countertop as he sat down and quietly rummaged through the drawers. He didn't know why he brought his sword along with him. It wasn't like he expected an attack inside his own division. Hisagi supposed that old habits die hard.

He finally found what he was here for: the Captain's seal stamp. Since his Captain's betrayal, the Head Commander had assigned him, Kira, and Momo as acting captains until a suitable replacement could be found. Hisagi knew that it was his duty to uphold his division since he was lieutenant, but he still felt honored nonetheless of being given the official right.

_You would make any Captain proud to have you as a lieutenant_. His Captain had told him. It had been after his initiation ceremony, when Hisagi had expressed doubts of his capability to his Captain. Captain Tousen had given him a brief smile before saying this one line. His compliment had encouraged him immensely.

The quietness of the room made it easier for Hisagi's thoughts to wander, and he found himself staring at his katana, wondering for a brief moment whether or not he should try striking up a conversation with the deranged spirit. As soon as the thought passed his mind, Hisagi scoffed. He was in no mood to hear Kazeshini's derogatory language and constant death threats. In fact, Hisagi couldn't remember the last time he and Kazeshini had a civil conversation. His sword spirit still continued to hate him…even after all these years.

He sighed once again as he massaged his forehead, his eyes feeling slightly drowsy.

There was a time that he and his Zanpakuto weren't so different. If he had told this to any of his friends- Kira, Renji, Matsumoto- they would have dismissed his claims as a joke. He was the lieutenant of Squad Nine, known for being calm, mature, and punctual. It would be hard to believe he was ever even a tenth of what his zanpakuto was like.

He smiled softly to himself. His hand still wrapped around the seal tightly.

It has been a while since he thought about his past, but now that he was alone in the room of his traitorous Captain, now was as good a time as any to recall how he became the shinigami he was today.

-o-


	2. Black Trail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that this is my depiction of Shuuhei when he is younger. He may seem non-canon at times in the beginning.
> 
> Enjoy!

Life at District 74 was harsh.

The 74th District of Rukongai, otherwise known as 'Kuro-Toreiru' or _Black Trail,_ was filled with crime and poverty. No matter where you looked, one would always see begging souls on the empty, dust filled paths. It wasn't uncommon to hear someone go missing. Black Trail was a labyrinth. It was easy to get lost in this part of Rukongai. With the old torn down shafts looking virtually identical at every turn, especially when it was night, it would take hours for a newcomer to find their way back again without help.

For this reason, it was a tradition that the inhabitants always carried along black ink, and if they couldn't afford it, many would gather soft mud from the riverbank and carry it with them in clay pots. Whenever they go out, the people would smear black ink on certain corners of the building. They would make signs they recognized, and by doing so, they would be able to return without delay to their original destination. Over time, these black and mud brown markings have spread throughout every corner of the 74th District, hence the reason for its name.

Shuuhei Hisagi was one of those individuals. Instead of the black ink and mud that most of the commoners used, the young dark haired boy would use indigo, created from crushed blueberry from his surrogate father's workshop.

Shuuhei walked down the streets of Kuro-Toreiru while casually looking for his previously marked indigo stains. He turned a left, his arms carrying light baskets of different herbs and berries that his father had requested. Shuuhei licked his lips, almost tasting the blackberries that would soon be crushed in his mouth.

When he finally reached his desired destination, he quickened his pace when he noticed there were unwelcome guests at the door. Two tall, burly men were overshadowing his father, who was currently trying hard to appease them.

"Pay up old man!" one of the men barked. "Your monthly due is up! We don't have all day!"

"Please give me until tomorrow!" his father pleaded. "A regular of mine will be coming by, and I'll have the money you want by then!"

"You must think we're easy, don't you, old geezer?" the second man snarled, "This isn't the first time you've asked for an extension! Looks like you are making a habit of it- I think we ought to teach him a lesson, Kento."

"I hear you…" Kento replied before he swung his fist into his father's side, causing his whole body to buckle in pain. When he leaned down to kick him in the head, Shuuhei ran up from behind and slammed one of the baskets at Kento's face.

"LEAVE MY FATHER ALONE YOU BASTARD!" he screamed. He started punching Kento with all his might, but his hits only aggravated rather than hurt the brute, whose face was now stained with berry juice. Shuuhei felt his body picked up from behind as Kento's partner quickly pummeled his whole body to the ground, causing the other basket's contents to spill out. Many of the berries he had spent hours picking now stained his face and clothes.

The other brute mercilessly kicked him in the stomach, causing Shuuhei to cry out in pain.

"Shuuhei!" his father yelled, his body still kneeling.

"You piece of shit," the man spat, literally spitting Shuuhei in the face before he roughly yanked him up by his hair. Shuuhei glared at him before he swiftly punched the man in the face.

The brute screamed as he released Shuuhei in order to tend to his now disfigured nose. Before Shuuhei had the chance to reach his injured father, Kento had grabbed him by the collar of his yukata and held a dagger dangerously close to his neck.

"I should slit your throat you little runt!" Kento hissed.

"Kento, please he's just a boy!" his father begged. "H-he doesn't know any better. I'll be sure to lecture him harshly about this later! H-how about this? I'll give you half the money I owe to you now and you can receive the other half with interest tomorrow?"

Kento narrowed his beady eyes before he gave a quick glance at his partner.

"With interest you say?" Kento repeated.

His father nodded quickly.

"What do you think Dairo?" Kento asked.

Dairo only sneered at Shuuhei before he gave a grunt. "I say…that if we are to accept this offer, then _Kishimoto-san_ here should pay with an added 10 percent interest to the monthly payments from now on."

Shuuhei widened his eyes at the sheer injustice of his offer. "Otou-san, don't-!"

"Fine," his father interrupted, ignoring the shock on his son's face. "Just let my son go. I'll bring you the first half right away."

"You heard the old man," Dairo said. "Let the brat go."

Kento sheathed his dagger away before pushing Shuuhei to the ground. The boy slumped to his knees, breathing heavily as moments later his father appeared and threw the bag of coins at Dairo, who caught it easily.

"Come on Kento," Dairo ordered. "We're done for today. We'll be seeing you again at the same time tomorrow, and the money better be with interest!"

"Of course," his father replied back. When the two thugs were finally a good distance away, his father knelt down beside Shuuhei, pick him back up, and lead him inside the small confines of the wood and mud shack.

"Let's get you cleaned up, Shuuhei," his father said. His son didn't answer. "I'm so sorry you had to experience that. I thought you wouldn't be back until an hour later."

"Why Otou-san?" he said bitterly. His father sighed, knowing exactly what his son meant. It wasn't the first time after all.

"Son," his father began, "There is a certain order in this world. Dairo and Kento may be nasty individuals, but the monthly payments are what guarantee our safety from other criminals like them. It is unfortunate that you ended up here in Kuro-Toreiru Shuuhei, but that is how the system here works. If we don't follow it, we will end up losing our lives too easily."

"Screw the system!" Shuuhei spat. "I don't care how much 'protection' those thugs are giving us. Can you seriously call this _living_? Trying your hardest to make money only to hand it over to those bastards…and then get the shit beat out of you if you refuse?"

"Then what do you suppose we do instead?" his father asked him gently.

"I-I don't know!" he exclaimed. Not for the first time, Shuuhei once again felt so…helpless, vulnerable. Why did he and his father have to live like this? It just wasn't _fair_. "But anything is better than dealing with them."

His father only chuckled lightly, grasping his shoulders tightly against him. "You have spirit, son. I appreciate how you defended me Shuuhei, I really do. But you will end up getting yourself killed with your reckless behavior. You have to chose your opponents carefully son. If you know that your opponent is stronger than you…there are times its best to stand down or run away if given the chance."

"So you're telling me to just stand there and watch them beat you up?!" Shuuhei said incredulously.

"If it keeps you safe, then yes," his father told him sternly. "I didn't decide to take you in to see you on the verge of dying again. I want you to live, Shuuhei. Maybe one day, when you grow into a fine young man, you will have the means to leave this horrid place and start a new life for yourself."

Shuuhei didn't reply. He still remembered the day his father found him. He had just recently come into the spirit world. He had nothing. No family, no friends. He was lying on his stomach by a river, his body weak with hunger after days of not eating. There weren't many places to buy or even steal food from since most of the souls here didn't need sustenance, didn't have an ounce of spirit energy. The fact that he lasted as long as he did with only water was already quite an achievement.

He remembered hearing the clattering sound of sandals approach him. Shuuhei had thought his second life was forfeit. He'd heard of children going missing before, kidnapped by slave traders or worse, eaten by the occasional hollow. He felt his body pushed over, and instead of seeing some brute, his dark grey eyes took in a thin, middle aged man with worried brown eyes, dressed in simple garments. He had on a straw hat, and he was carrying a basket of dried plants.

Seeing his deprived state, the thin-haired man he would later call father tugged his chin down and pushed berries into his mouth. Shuuhei ate the offered berries slowly, he had wondered for a moment if he was being poisoned, but decided he didn't care. Sometime later, Shuuhei had passed out, and the next time he woke up, he found himself in the care of Rentarou Kishimoto, the district's only ink maker. He had clean clothes, a roof over his head, and a guardian that cared for him.

"I'm sorry, otou-san." Shuuhei said quietly as he sat down in the makeshift bed. His father looked up at him. He had been in the middle of crushing herbs.

"What for?"

He swallowed heavily, staring down at his lap. "I'm always causing you trouble. Even though you asked nothing in return when you took me in- if it weren't for me, those thugs wouldn't have forced you to pay extra and you wouldn't have to worry about having another mouth to feed."

"Shuuhei," his father said. "Look at me." He raised his head slowly. "Don't you _ever_ think that I regret taking you in- that was my decision, and it's the _best_ decision I've made yet. My late wife and I had always wanted a child, Shuuhei. Though we are not related, you are in every way my son and not a burden. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Otou-san," he replied. His father smiled as he reached over and ruffled his hair playfully.

"Good," he said. He handed Shuuhei a wet cloth. "Now change out of those clothes and wipe the stains off your face. The ointment will be ready to apply, and then you will be free to join your friends on that fishing trip."

"What about the herbs and berries I gathered?" he asked. "They're all wasted now…"

"Don't worry about it," his father said, "Just leave that to me."

Shuuhei nodded as he did what he was told.

-o-

"Hey Shuuhei, what took you so long?" one of his friends, Hikaru, called out to him. His slicked up silver hair was already covered in sweat from waiting in the sun. "I've been waiting since _forever_."

"Sorry about that," he apologized. He adjusted the hand-made straw basket from his shoulders, his fishing spear in hand. "Where are Asuya and Taro?"

"They're already at the East River bank," Hikaru answered. "No doubt trying to catch the big ones while we're here. Come on."

Shuuhei only nodded as he followed his neighborhood friend up the familiar slope. Soon enough, Asuya and Taro came into view, their legs halfway in the water as they tried spearing the fish. So far, there were a couple fish in each of their baskets.

"Shuuhei!" Asuya called out as he emerged. "Catch!" His hand was a slight blur as he threw the object in question towards him. Shuuhei grabbed it, wincing when his skin felt the prickly thorns of a sea urchin.

Shuuhei dropped the sea urchin with a grimace, as Asuya laughed aloud at his reaction. "That's not funny Asuya! You know I hate sea urchins!" He had made the mistake of bringing home an offered sea urchin from Asuya before. After preparing and cooking it up, he had vomited immediately after taking a bite of it, much to his father's amusement.

"It was so worth it!" Asuya said, still laughing. "You should have seen your face! I'm _so glad_ I asked my father to give me one after one of his canoeing trips."

"Oh yeah? Then how about asking for something useful the next time around?" Shuuhei retorted. He kicked the dropped sea urchin away from him in mock anger before he folded up the ends of his yukata. "I am so getting you with that!"

"You guys just won't stop," Taro sighed, stepping out of the river as Shuuhei dashed right in. He watched Shuuhei tackle Asuya into the water and the two began to splash each other playfully. "I'm tired."

"You just got here an hour ago," Hikaru pointed out. "Don't you have five other siblings you need to help feed?"

"I guess," Taro replied, setting his chubby body down on the rocky banks of the river. "It's not like we need food all that much though. All of my family members can survive with a pinch a day and be fine. I'm only doing this for a profit. Just in case any shinigami happens to stop by dad's food stand and had a taste for fish."

"Good luck with that," Hikaru muttered. "I doubt any shinigami would stop by this dump any time soon."

"Exactly," Taro agreed.

After another 2 hours of spearing fish, Shuuhei and his friends started heaving their filled baskets to their shoulders and begin the journey to return home. Instead of going directly to his house, Shuuhei followed his other friends to the center square. Taro knew of a person who would pay generously for their catch. It was times like these that Shuuhei was thankful he didn't end up in a worse district. He had heard one too many horror stories of what went on in Inuzuri or the Zaraki district.

There was a commotion down at the square. Shuuhei frowned as he noticed how all the people have gotten outside of their homes, as if something peculiar had happened. He and his friends shoved their way past the civilians, and Shuuhei widened his eyes at the sight that greeted him:

Shinigami…a whole group of them, all darkly clad in their shinigami robes with katanas strapped to their side or back. There were 10 of them, split into two groups. One of them answered one of the villager's questions before addressing the crowd.

"We have heard that there have been many mysterious disappearances in this district." A male shinigami with a buzz-cut was saying. "Any of you who have any information about these disappearances should step forth now."

The crowd began to mutter in undertones. Shuuhei resisted the urge to roll his eyes. These disappearances have been happening ever since he got here, and only now the shinigami decided to do something about it? How unreliable, and they were the ones responsible for keeping the balance and their safety against the hollows.

"Come on," Shuuhei urged each of his friends. "We need to get going."

"The shinigami-!" Asuya protested.

"-are here to do their job." Shuuhei finished. "They'll be gone once they're done and get their paycheck. So come on!" His friends mumbled incoherent replies as they very unwillingly parted away from the crowd and group of shinigami.

"Hey Shuuhei," Hikaru said quietly. He turned to him questionably. "Do you have something against shinigami?"

"Not really," he answered. "Why?"

"They're shinigami!" Asuya exclaimed, as if that explained everything. "I heard stories about how they fight with these cool katanas and incantations against the hollows. My father even told me that the upper level shinigami even had these unique sword abilities and move at an impossible speed!"

"Yeah I heard about that too!" Taro chimed in. "You know, they even have an academy for potential recruits? One of my aunt's younger cousins is a student there."

"It's not every day we see so many of them either," Hikaru added, but unlike Asuya or Taro, his expression grew grim. "There must be something serious going on…"

"Aren't you the least bit…I don't know, amazed?" Asuya said.

"Sure I am," Shuuhei said easily. "I think it's cool that they can fight so well. But standing around staring at them with admiration isn't going to fill my stomach."

_And they don't deal with the common criminals either,_ Shuuhei thought. He could still feel a slight pain in his abdomen where Dairo had struck him this morning.

"You know what would be really awesome?" Asuya said.

Shuuhei gave him a glance. "What?"

Asuya grinned, his blue eyes twinkling with excitement. "It would awesome…if all of us got accepted into the Shinigami Academy!" Shuuhei stared at him in disbelief. "I mean, I know that it's likely impossible since most of us don't have much spirit energy but…Shuuhei, you have a good amount."

"That's true," Hikaru muttered. "You have the most spirit energy I've seen around here."

"Hold on," Shuuhei said. "Me? A shinigami? Just because I have spirit energy doesn't mean I'm cut out for the job."

"I know, but you have the best chance out of all of us." Taro said. "Do you not want to be a shinigami?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "Shinigami fight hollows almost all the time. They must have casualties don't they? I don't know if I'm willing to risk my neck for a bunch of strangers."

"But you do it for us right?" Asuya prodded. "For our safety and your Otou-san's, right Shuuhei?"

Shuuhei thought about it for a moment. All those times his friends had stood by him against the local bullies, and how his father had taken him in and raised him for the past few years….would he risk his life for them?

The answer was obvious.

"Sure," he said. "If it's for you guys and my Otou-san, then why not?" His answer seemed to appease them as they rounded another marked corner and approached the potential buyer.

_Becoming a shinigami…_ Shuuhei thought, and then he scoffed mentally. _It's probably impossible for me._

-o-


	3. Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuuhei meets Kensei and Mashiro.

Shuuhei always loved the wind.

To him, it was the epitome of power: Unyielding and relentless, forever traveling from place to place. It was the very definition of freedom and potential. It was boundless, limitless, and fearless. Shuuhei wished he was like the wind. Unlike the wind, he was trapped here in Kuro-Toreiru. Stuck with obligations to support his father and survive a mean lifestyle. Dairo and Kento had come at the promised time- just after one of his father's ink customers had paid. Thankfully, there were no further disputes as Dairo counted the coins snidely and quickly left with his equally brutish companion.

Sometimes, whenever he had spare time to be alone, Shuuhei would wander around the edges of the nearby forest and plains. He would spend at least an hour sitting on the hillside, just watching the gray sky and feeling the breeze sweep through him. Shuuhei's mind would instantly be calm and for that brief moment, he could imagine his life being far more meaningful than it really was.

"Shuuhei!" he heard his otou-san exclaim, "Shuuhei, where are you? I need your help."

He sighed as he folded his knees and got up, reality slamming its ugly head into him once more. He quickened his pace, and reached his otou-san at the front of the house.

"Yes, otou-san?"

"Shuuhei, I need you to buy some rice and soybeans from Yuto-san," his father began.

Shuuhei suppressed a groan. Yuto was the local shopkeeper who happened to be only one who took other methods of payment. Since he and his father were low on coins thanks to those thugs, Yuto was usually their last resort to get food. While that was good and all, Yuto was also a stingy cheat. There were times that Shuuhei had to double check the weight of the bags to make sure he wasn't a cup short. Not only that, if Shuuhei muttered even one word of disrespect in front of the overweight, obnoxious buyer- he could say sayonara to a good deal.

"Make sure to wrap the ink bottles and basket of berries tightly!" His otou-san said to him as he quietly went inside. Shuuhei only nodded before doing just that.

Before the morning sun had even risen, Shuuhei was already out of the house and on his way to the center square, with another hand-made basket over his shoulders. He casually dipped his hand in indigo as he walked past distinct landmarks (as distinct as they could get around here) and made his way around quietly. After at least 20 minutes of walking, Shuuhei finally reached the outskirts of the center.

There were a couple souls out, talking amongst themselves. As Shuuhei walked past them, he realized that most of the gossips were about the group of shinigami that arrived a week ago. Instead of the usual awestruck chatter he was used to hearing, Shuuhei's ears perked up when he heard something of interest:

"…all 10 of them disappeared!" One of the middle-aged ladies had whispered to her friend. "There was no trace of them left!"

"Could it be the hollows?" her companion muttered.

"Maybe, but surely hollows can't be so strong as to take down 10 shinigami at once?"

"This is frightening…if the shinigami can't stop the disappearances, then who can?"

Shuuhei begrudgingly moved on, it wouldn't do if he got caught eavesdropping, but he couldn't help but wonder. So the shinigami he saw had all vanished? The situation seemed to be getting worse. Hikaru was right after all…something bad was happening here, more so than they realized. He hoped he didn't end up facing who or what was causing the disappearances.

-o-

"So it's you again huh runt?" Yuto said, his tone condescending as he stared down at the dark-haired boy's small figure.

Shuuhei felt his eye twitch in irritation. "I'm here for the usual trade, Yuto-san."

"Well, open up then!" Yuto-san demanded. Shuuhei diligently loaded the ink and berries onto the scale while Yuto-san placed bags of soybean and rice on the other, waiting for the scales to balance out. When it did so, Shuuhei frowned.

"T-that can't be right!" he exclaimed, looking at the scales indignantly. "You had the scales loaded!"

"Shut your mouth, boy!" Yuto hissed. "How dare you accuse me of such a thing? You get what you get!"

"You had them loaded!" He repeated loudly. Some of the surrounding souls were starting to wonder what was going on. "There's no way ten ink filled bottles weigh only one small bag of rice! You're obviously cheating me!"

Yuto-san narrowed his bulgy eyes and glared menacingly. Shuuhei only glared at the obese shopkeeper in return. He couldn't accept this…he knew his father told him to trend lightly when dealing with the stingy shopkeeper, but his softness was just making Yuto grow more bold.

"Listen here boy, and listen well," Yuto warned, "You either take this deal or never set foot here again! You won't find another shopkeeper as generous as I am- so take it or leave it!"

"Fine!" Shuuhei replied angrily. "No deal! I'll be taking these back!" He made a move to grab the bottles but Yuto held them out of his reach. "Give those back to me!"

"Everything that is on this table is my property!" Yuto claimed. "Now get out of my sight-!"

"No! I'm not leaving without those!"

"Hey you two, what's the trouble here?" A young female voice called from behind.

"It's none of your con-!" Yuto stopped when he finally looked up to see who it was. Noticing the surprise, Shuuhei narrowed his eyes before turning his gaze to the intervener. His eyes widened in amazement as he took in the black kimono, short green hair, and a badge strapped to her left arm.

"Is this big bad man causing you trouble?" the female shinigami asked him, her mouth tight-lipped in comical indignation. Shuuhei didn't reply for a moment. He never expected to meet yet _another_ shinigami, and one who actually took notice of him.

So Shuuhei only nodded in stunned silence before the green haired shinigami addressed Yuto.

"Now look here, Mr. Bad Man…" the shinigami said like she was scolding a little boy. "You don't treat little boys like that! That is just wrong! Now give the boy back his stuff!"

Yuto only stared at the female shinigami in disbelief, probably wondering if she's actually serious, until the shinigami narrowed her eyes dangerously.

"Do you have stuffing in your ears? _I said_ give the boy back his things!" the shinigami repeated; her voice now had a threatening undertone.

Yuto nodded quickly before he more or less shoved the items back into Shuuhei's arms quickly.

"Good boy!" the shinigami said, smiling like a giddy child. "Now, was there something else you wanted?" She asked Shuuhei with a wide smile.

"I-I just wanted some rice and soybeans…" he muttered, "B-but he wouldn't give the right amount."

"Huh," she mumbled. Her face appeared thoughtful. "Okay, I know what to do!" Suddenly, she pulled out her katana and pointed it at Yuto's throat. Yuto jumped back with a shriek.

"I demand on my honor as a shinigami that you hand over your supply of rice and soybeans!" she declared. Both Yuto and Shuuhei stared at her, flabbergasted.

 _Is she for real…?_ Shuuhei thought. Though, he couldn't help but be pleased at seeing Yuto's humiliation.

"T-this is unreasonable!" Yuto sputtered. "I can't hand over my supply for free-!"

"Your cheating ways are unreasonable!" she countered, pointing at the loaded scales with her katana. The bag of rice was tilting the scales even though there was nothing on the other end. Yuto appeared aghast, embarrassed and angered of being caught. "Now hand the rice and soybeans over before someone gets hurt! Since I'm also thirsty, get me some sake while you are at it!"

Yuto visibly gulped before he was forced to follow the shinigami's demands. A few moments later, Shuuhei was carrying the biggest haul of rice and soybeans he had ever carried. The shinigami walked beside him, gulping down sake like there's no tomorrow.

"Ah! Now that hit the spot!" she exclaimed, after downing another bottle. "I am so glad I got Kensei to bring me along! I even got to exert some _Mashiro justice_!" With that, she dropped down and struck an outrageous pose. Shuuhei cracked a smile at her antics. Were all shinigami this weird?

"Hey little boy," she said, "Do you know of a good place to get souvenirs?"

He nodded. "Most of the shops are located at the center square. You need to take three lefts and then another right to reach the first one."

"Oh I see!" she exclaimed. "This place really is like a maze. It's so easy to get lost here, but at least I got you! Kensei and his boy gang are probably having trouble getting around!"

"You mean there are more of you?" Shuuhei asked. She nodded.

"I got to go find them after I'm done having my fun," she said happily, "Thanks for your help, um…?"

"Shuuhei Hisagi."

"Thanks for the help, Shuuhei!" The shinigami replied, patting his head playfully. Shuuhei tried not to scowl. "If you ever run into trouble again, just call _Mashiro Kuna-nee_ for help!"

"Okay."

The female shinigami gave a wink before she suddenly took off in an incredible speed, leaving the boy in the dust. Shuuhei only heaved his heavy burden up before he started the journey home. He had a lot to tell his otou-san.

-o-

"….and then she whipped out her sword and threatened Yuto to do what she told him!" Shuuhei finished with a grin. His father sat beside him, chuckling.

"That is certainly one good ending!" his otou-san said. "You are very lucky to have the shinigami notice you. What did you say her name was?"

"I think it was Mashiro Kuna," he told him. "She's pretty strange, but she did help me out a lot."

"That she did," the older man agreed. "Now we have a whole year's supply of rice and soybeans."

Shuuhei nodded, before realizing something critical. "Wait, Yuto is never going to let me near his stall again. What's going to happen to us once the rice and soybeans run out?"

His father sighed. "We'll worry about that when the time comes, son. I can start searching for another potential replacement. I should have known it would have came to this." He got up from his sitting position and went outside, washing his ink-stained hands in the man-made brook.

Shuuhei took a sneak glance at the painting his father was working on, his eyes widening by the second in sheer amazement at his father's artistic talent. He took in the elegant brush strokes that made up the mountains, the hills, and the delicate tree branches with cherry blossoms. It was a masterpiece. Shuuhei wished he could paint half as good.

"Shuuhei!" his father scolded half-heartedly. "What did I say about looking at my unfinished pieces?"

"B-but there's nothing wrong with it," he insisted. "You can make money with these paintings! You don't have to just sell ink."

His father only shook his head. "There aren't many people here who have the money or interest to buy paintings. Besides, I see painting only as a hobby, not a job. It wouldn't be the same."

"Even so…" Shuuhei muttered.

"Your friend Hikaru dropped by," his father mentioned casually, his hands picking up a brush and wetting it in the assortment of inks. "He asked if you had some time to play in the afternoon. I heard Taro and Asuya will also be there. I told him you had time."

"Really? Arigato Otou-san!" Shuuhei said, embracing his father figure. His father chuckled before he ruffled his hair familiarly.

"It's not a problem, Shuuhei." He said, "Make sure you wash up and eat before you leave."

-o-

"Come on Shuuhei! You can do better than that!" Asuya taunted, watching Shuuhei dribble the ball with his legs. He stood spread out, guarding the goal intently.

Hikaru was deterring his path, before he suddenly slipped in a foot and suddenly gained control of the ball. He kicked it pass him and was running the ball towards the goal, with Taro acting as goalie.

"Taro, look out!" Shuuhei shouted, before Hikaru aimed. Taro lunged, but the ball went just pass his fingertips, thereby giving a point to the opposing team.

"Great one, Hikaru!" Asuya yelled from the other side.

"Sorry, Shuuhei," Taro muttered. "I'll try to catch the next one."

"It's alright, Taro. It's just a friendly game of football.*" He reassured him. "We'll get them back soon."

The game progressed, with Hikaru and Shuuhei scoring points before they switched positions. It was soon dusk when Asuya kicked the ball over Shuuhei too hard. The ball tumbled down the ragged hill and into the dense forest.

"I'll get it!" Asuya said, before he took off after the missing ball. Shuuhei and his two friends decided to take a break.

Their plans were interrupted when they suddenly heard Asuya's piercing scream.

"Asuya!" Shuuhei shouted before all of them ran towards his direction.

Once they ran past the dense forest and into a clearing, it took Shuuhei's entire willpower not to scream:

A _hollow_ ….Shuuhei felt his body froze in fear as he stared at the monstrosity standing just a few meters in front of him. The hollow was enormous, standing at least 50 feet, but it seemed even larger at this distance. It had the shape of a bug, with numerous thick legs and a long neck. It's hollowed out eyes regarded them carefully. Shuuhei had never met a hollow before, and few lived to tell the tale. He heard his friends shudder, stunned into silence. Shuuhei swallowed heavily, before his eyes darted to the shredded garment on the ground. There was a long bloody tear in the back. There was no soul left.

He's dead…Asuya was dead. The fact was almost surreal. He was just playing football with them just moments ago, and now he's gone for good.

 _If I don't get away, I'll end up like that._ Shuuhei thought morbidly, before swallowing again.

The hollow approached, its footsteps sounding like thunder, and then it gave a piercing roar. At that, his two friends gave a terrified scream and stepped back a little, but like Shuuhei, their eyes were hypnotized on the hollow.

 _We have to run!_ Shuuhei's thoughts screamed at him. Yet despite his mind's intentions, his body just wouldn't budge, and he couldn't even yell due to the intense fear that had settled deep within him. He blinked, and forced his gaze onto the ground, away from the hollow. The moment he looked away, he suddenly felt his body function normally again. He gave a scream, waking Hikaru and Taro to their senses.

"RUN AWAY!" he shouted at them. "Run now! Or we're dead!"

The three of them quickly did so, with Hikaru and Taro ahead of him by a few steps. There was still a distance before he and his friends can reach the forest. Shuuhei looked behind his shoulder. The hollow was gaining on them: every one step the hollow took was equal to their three steps, and the forest was still far away. Unless…

"Run faster!" Shuuhei encouraged them. "Run faster if you want to live!"

Suddenly, Shuuhei grabbed a stray stick on the ground, holding it like a shinigami would with a sword. He didn't know why he decided to do this, but he knew that they were all going to be hollow food if someone didn't delay the monster.

Instead of attacking him with its ugly face, a purple, tentacle like thing came out and shot towards Shuuhei. He whacked the tentacle angrily. His friends suddenly stopped running, staring at him in bewilderment.

" _Didn't you hear me_?!" Shuuhei said, frustrated, as he continued to hit the disgusting thing away. "You have to get out of here! _Run and don't stop!"_

Hikaru and Taro paused for a moment, before they quickly turned their backs and starting running. Shuuhei felt relief surge in him despite his dangerous predicament. At least his friends would be okay.

No sooner had he thought of this, when he felt his body being wrapped around by a thicker tentacle. Soon, his small figure was being lifted into the air. Shuuhei screamed in horror. His whole body was being flung this way and that, the food he ate just hours prior were threatening to spill out. His head was growing dizzy, but he kept screaming anyway, in hopes that someone… _anyone_ would notice and help.

But it seemed that Shuuhei's luck has run out. The hollow suddenly tugged him closer, getting him closer towards its mouth. Shuuhei kept screaming, his arms trying to get his body free but to no avail. He shut his eyes; tears seeped out as he was forced to accept the inevitable…

Then, his body became airborne.

Shuuhei opened his eyes in shock as his whole body, now freed of the appendage, slammed hard into the ground. What happened? As he recollected himself, he heard footsteps approaching him. He first saw a pair of sandals, and then the familiar black kimono garb, only this time, the shinigami also had on a white sleeveless overcoat. Shuuhei finally made out the face of a muscular silver-haired man. He wore elbow length black gloves, his katana fully unsheathed in his right hand.

Somehow, this shinigami felt _different_. Unlike the other shinigami he saw or met, Shuuhei could sense some kind of energy pulsing out of him, though he had no idea how. He carried himself with an air of certainty and confidence, like a high class individual. Almost instantly, Shuuhei knew that this shinigami was powerful.

The silver-haired shinigami soon noticed his staring and gave a grin. Shuuhei picked himself back up, his eyes not once leaving the shinigami.

"Hey hurry up and get out of here," the shinigami told him, "You don't want to die do you?"

Shuuhei stared, his mouth agape at the irony. With a grunt, Shuuhei quickly ran past the white cloaked shinigami until he was at a safe enough distance. He watched as the shinigami commanded the rest of his team.

"Men!" He yelled. "Back off!"

"Yes sir!" His squad, which consisted of four male shinigami, quickly backed away from the hollow, leaving the silver-haired shinigami with the beast.

There was a swirl of wind surging around the shinigami as he directed his sword to the ground, and Shuuhei's knees unwillingly buckle to an unknown pressure, but he kept watching.

"Now _blast away_ …" the shinigami whispered. The wind now surged around his weapon, the length of the blade shortening and the hilt now stained black. Shuuhei felt like his body was punched, his breathing now uneven.

" _TACHIKAZE_!"

The shinigami gave a downward strike with his shortened blade, and numerous blasts of wind came forth, engulfing the enormous hollow. The wind surges narrowed into invisible strings and sliced through the hollow's legs and neck like it was nothing. A moment later, the hollow's whole body collapsed, causing a lot of smoke and dust to form.

 _Amazing…_ Shuuhei thought with awe, finally able to stand up properly. _With just one strike, he took out the hollow like it was child's play._

With that, the shinigami had his weapon return to normal as he sheathed it once more. The rest of his squad leaped down and gathered towards their leader.

"Is everybody alright?" he said.

"Yes sir." His squad answered in unison.

Shuuhei slumped to the ground, his body still feeling weak from the pressure admitted during the shinigami's display of power. Just a week ago, he had thought of shinigami as incompetent people who cared only about their pay. Oh how wrong he was. This shinigami… was what you called a fighter, a true warrior- compared to him or even to his subordinates, Shuuhei felt so useless.

He felt his eyes well up again, and soon enough, he was sobbing: Crying about his meaningless existence. How he was always getting picked on by thugs, spent half his days starving, and then almost getting eaten. He even wondered for a moment if getting eaten would have been a better alternative than the life he had.

"Hey, what are you crying for kid?" The leader of the shinigami asked as he approached him. "At least you are alive. You should be happy."

 _Happy?_ Shuuhei scoffed mentally. _I suppose I should be, since I have otou-san and my friends. My friends…they probably think I'm dead by now!_

" _Smile!_ _"_ The shinigami demanded, " _Or else_!"

"That's a bit much don't you think?" One of his subordinates reprimanded.

"No, I don't," his leader said as he walked over and tugged his body back up. "Come on, stand up!"

Shuuhei did, his tear-stained eyes looking at the shinigami warily, before wiping them away hastily. He didn't want to appear pathetic in front of them, though it was pointless since Shuuhei couldn't will the tears to stop.

"So what's your name anyway huh?" The shinigami asked.

"S-Shuuhei H-Hisagi," he finally said; his voice uneven.

"Shuuhei Hisagi," the shinigami repeated. "A mighty strong sounding name… _Stop crying_!" He snapped.

Shuuhei felt his throat hitch before he suddenly bawled. He was so pathetic right now…he couldn't even live up to his own name.

"What are you crying about now, kid?" he demanded. "I said stop crying! You got to be kidding me."

" _Kensei!"_ A familiar sing-song voice said. Shuuhei didn't look up, but he knew who it was instantly.

"Mashiro," the shinigami- Kensei- said, confirming her identity. "Where the hell did you go during the battle-?!"

"Listen, when I was hiding in the bushes, look what I found on the ground!" Mashiro interrupted quickly, not seeming to care what Kensei had said. She also didn't seem to notice him either, Shuuhei thought, and he was glad about that. He didn't want her to see him like this.

She held up a spare shinigami uniform. "See? A squad uniform!"

Kensei gave a surprised gasp, as did the rest of his squad.

"There was a whole bunch of them- Ten of them!" Mashiro continued.

"Ten…uniforms…" Kensei repeated, his voice bordering on shock.

"Captain, they must be…" His subordinate trailed off.

"What? What? Is ten important or something? Well?" Mashiro said impatiently.

"You're such an idiot," Kensei muttered. Mashiro looked up at him. "Ten…that was the number of shinigami sent out in the advance party!"

Shuuhei dried his eyes, suddenly interested in what Kensei was saying. Mashiro had asked a question, while Kensei gave a morbid answer concerning the disappearances.

"…how could they have taken them off with the sash still tied?" Kensei pointed out, "How could they remove their sandals with the socks still on?" When no one answered him, Kensei started to bark orders to each of his officers, and once again, Shuuhei felt his admiration for Kensei grow. He was clearly disturbed by the news, yet he didn't let his unease get in the way. He knew exactly what needed to be done, and his subordinates knew that. Kensei was a natural leader.

"Hey kid," Kensei said, turning to him. Shuuhei blinked in surprise at the sudden address. "You should go home quickly before it gets dark. Understand kid?"

Shuuhei didn't reply. He was too busy staring at a strange symbol on the man's bare torso. Shuuhei wasn't completely literate, but he could make out the standard numbers 6 and 9. If Kensei had those numbers tattooed to his skin…it must hold a special meaning for him.

Kensei only threw him a glance before he turned away from him, with Mashiro and one of his subordinates walking beside him.

"You weren't really serious about the whole 'camping out' were you, Kensei?" Mashiro whined. "I'm not really a ' _tent person'_."

"Sorry," Kensei replied bluntly, not sounding apologetic at all. "We're all out of four-star hotels."

Soon, the three shinigami disappeared from view. Shuuhei stayed transfixed in his spot a moment longer. He noticed that the hollow's remains had already disintegrated. He let out a breath, not believing how lucky he was to still be alive.

Speaking of…Shuuhei's eyes suddenly widened. His otou-san! He must be sick with worry. He quickly took off in a mad dash, the clearing completely bare once again.

-o-

Shuuhei had been right, his father was sick with worry.

When Shuuhei had appeared in front of his house, he discovered that his friends were also there, having just told his father of his untimely 'death'. His father, upon seeing him, instantly embraced him tightly, sobbing in relief. Hikaru was wiping away tears while Taro asked him questions about what had happened.

"The shinigami saved my life," he told them. He told them all about Kensei and his team, and then he added his meeting with Mashiro earlier when she appeared after the battle. Hikaru and Taro were awestruck, and then they quickly expressed their thanks to him for saving their lives. They later mentioned how they had already informed Asuya's family and they were now in mourning. Shuuhei reminded himself to pay them his respects.

Eventually his friends left, and his father insisted that he check Shuuhei for possible injuries. Just to keep his father from worrying even further, Shuuhei consented.

It was late into the night when Shuuhei finally settled into bed. He closed his eyes. The whole day's events had exhausted him more than he realized, and sleep quickly took over.

Unbeknownst to the house's occupants, the usually tightly closed shutter suddenly flung open…

And a deathly cold wind breezed through the room.

-o-


	4. Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a certain zanpakuto spirit finally reveals himself

"Shuuhei, did you leave the shutters unclosed?" his father asked him one morning.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Hai, otou-san," Shuuhei said, furrowing his eyes in confusion. "Something wrong?"

"It's strange," his father muttered, inspecting the shutter edges carefully, "I don't think the shutters are broken…this is the fifth time I've noticed it open."

"Maybe the hinges are loose?" Shuuhei suggested.

"Perhaps," His otou-san relented, "I'll check it more thoroughly later. Kento and Dairo will be coming by late tonight so…"

Shuuhei nodded, "I got it."

It's been six months since the hollow incident. Shuuhei had paid his respects to Asuya's family, along with Hikaru and Taro. The three of them didn't say anything outright, but each of them were still scarred from the incident. Though Hikaru and Taro didn't face death, Shuuhei could tell that the missing presence of their friend affected them more than they let on. He felt the same way.

This was why there was an insufferable silence amongst the three of them right now. They met at the usual place by the brook, but instead of having a conversation going- Shuuhei had his eyes on the ground. Taro was munching on something while Hikaru scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

"You know what?" Hikaru started, "I think this…whatever this is, has gone on enough. I don't think um, I don't think Asuya would have wanted us to be like this. Come on! We're all still friends aren't we?"

"Yeah," Shuuhei muttered. Taro nodded. "You're right. Let's get this job over with and call it a day?"

"You bet," Hikaru responded, picking up his spear. "I'm hungry just thinking about it."

"It's pretty windy today too." Taro commented. Hikaru just rolled his eyes.

"It's been windy _this whole month_ , Taro," Hikaru complained. "Honestly, it's a pain brushing my hair back." Just when he said those words, a cool breeze swept through them, causing Hikaru's silver hair to fly all over the place. "Damn it! _I hate this wind_!"

"It's just nature, Hikaru," Shuuhei said, smirking at his friend's distress. "Deal with it."

"Easy for you to say," Hikaru muttered with a grimace. "It's not like your hair can get any messier." Shuuhei gave him a shove on the shoulder. Hikaru promptly shoved him back. With that, the two of them started thrashing about playfully,

"Hey you guys!" Taro called. "You going to get some fish or fight all day? I'm not sharing my catch!"

"He started it," Shuuhei muttered, ruffling Hikaru's hair a bit more. Hikaru scowled.

"First one to catch a dozen fish wins!" Hikaru declared. Shuuhei smirked, accepting the challenge.

"You're on!"

With that, things slowly returned to normal.

-o-

In the end, it was Hikaru who won. Shuuhei slumped his shoulders, his pride slightly damaged from losing the race even if nothing was gambled. He was passing by the town's center plaza like always before he noticed someone familiar.

"Otou-san!" Shuuhei called out. His father turned around and greeted him. "W-what are you doing out here?"

"I had just returned from making a good deal with a new stand owner," he said, smiling. Shuuhei felt relieved. They've been searching for a replacement for so long Shuuhei had thought the search was futile. "His location is further away than usual, but at least we won't ever have to deal with Yuto anymore."

"That's great!" Shuuhei said. He opened his basket to let his father see his catch. "Look, Otou-san! This is what I caught today!"

"That is a wonderful catch!" His father complimented. "Well done, son." Shuuhei nodded, blushing slightly at his father's praise. His father smiled, and placed a fatherly hold over his shoulder, and the two of them left the clearing.

Of course, Black Trail didn't earn its infamous reputation for nothing. Just as Shuuhei and his father were passing by one of the stands, they encountered a riot.

There were thugs everywhere, ransacking the stalls and threatening the owners for food and money with their knives. People ran this way and that, causing Shuuhei to stumble when one person bumped into him too hard.

"Come along Shuuhei," his father whispered. "It's best we go the other route."

He nodded. As much as he wanted to help, Shuuhei knew it would be useless. There were too many outlaws. It was during times like these that he couldn't help but feel bitter towards the shinigami. They got to live in the _Sereitei_ , where it was protected and full of luxuries Shuuhei could only dream of having, and they got paid for incompetence. If he hadn't met Mashiro or Kensei six months earlier, he would have thought all the shinigami were a joke.

He sighed and quickly scurried into a safe corner. Right now, he and his father had to rely on themselves. Shuuhei knew he was only lucky to have the shinigami there to save him. He couldn't expect any to turn up now.

Just as he and his father were about to disappear from the scene, out of the corner of his eye, Shuuhei noticed his friend Taro being backed by one of the outlaws. Fear gripped his heart, and he felt the urge to aid him.

"Taro!" he shouted, about to run to him before realizing his father's grip on his arm. "Otou-san! Taro needs help!"

His father hesitated, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed the situation before shaking his head. "It's too dangerous, Shuuhei."

" _What?"_ he protested. "Taro isn't a stranger, he's my _friend_! I can't abandon him!"

"I'm sure someone else will come to help him," his father said firmly. "You don't even have a weapon to defend yourself, much less saving others!"

"I still got to try!" Shuuhei exclaimed, shaking his father's hold off him. Ignoring his father's protests, he quickly ran towards Taro's direction.

As he approached, Shuuhei took out the fishing spear tied across his back swiftly and stepped in between Taro and a burly, bald-headed thug. His fishing spear slammed against massive club in the thug's hand briefly before the man pushed Shuuhei back.

"Shuuhei!" Taro gasped.

Shuuhei gritted his teeth, "Run, Taro! I can't hold him off for long!" He heard Taro get up and move out of the way, just as Shuuhei was suddenly pushed back against a wall.

" _You bastard!"_ the thug spat. He raised his weapon once more, but Shuuhei was already three steps ahead of him. He dodged the blow by twisting his body, before bashing the thug's lowered head with the blunt end of his spear. The brutish thug fell flat on the ground.

Unfortunately, the thug had friends. One of them noticed his companion's poor state and looked at Shuuhei with hateful disdain.

"Get the runt!" his equally ugly friend yelled.

Shuuhei gathered his bearings, and ran. Now that Taro was safe and out of harm's way, he didn't see any point in getting involved in more fights, more chances of injury. He held his spear steady, and his pack of fish slowed him down, but his body remained nimble. He dodged a rolling barrel, and sidestepped a fight between two men before he jumped past a moving cart of grain (much to the cart holder's protest), and ran down a narrow aisle. He kept running for a while, not once looking back. It was only when he started to lose breath that Shuuhei finally stopped and looked back.

There was no one behind him.

The young boy let out a sigh of relief, not noticing a large shadow emerging from behind the wall above him…

" _Shuuhei, look out!"_ he heard his father's familiar voice scream.

Shuuhei felt someone slam their whole body against him, and his spine threatened to snap when his waist was forcefully crushed between his opponent and dented basket of fish. The thug's friend from earlier punched him square in the jaw, causing him to spit out blood. He backed up a bit, and the burly man raised his fist before being tackled from behind. The boy widened his eyes as he watched his father try to hold down a man that was twice his size.

"Run, Shuuhei!" his father yelled.

He was aghast. "But you-!"

"Now!" he demanded before the man forced himself free from his father's lock hold, grabbed his father's forehead and hit him against the dirty ink-stained wall. His father gasped in pain as the thug kicked him harshly.

"Otou-san!" Shuuhei cried. He didn't know how his father managed to follow him, but there was no way he was going to abandon his father to the likes of that criminal. Without thinking, the boy charged forward with his spear raised. The man only snatched the end of weapon firmly before heaving Shuuhei up and sent him tumbling down on the ground. His spear was now splintered and broken in half.

His chest and torso stung with pain, and his arms and legs were like tofu. He could only watch, helpless, as the man turned his attention on his injured father and kicked him relentlessly. Shuuhei tasted blood in his mouth, and his focus was growing dimmer. He tried to get up, but his legs were bruised and weak. If he didn't get up now, then his father would die…

 _Run, Shuuhei!_ His father had said, but he couldn't run. For even if he did, the haven he would end up returning to would no longer hold any meaning. He would have no one to depend on.

_If you know your opponent is stronger than you, then it's best to stand down or run away…._

_Why…why am I so useless?_ Shuuhei thought, clenching his jaw and hands. He hated how weak he was. Most of all, he hated how powerless he was against the system of Black Trail, Rukongai, and Soul Society in general. He had already lost Asuya to the hollows, and now he was about to lose his father too.

Shuuhei shut his eyes as tears started to seep out. He painfully forced himself up with trembling arms. He hoisted the basket of spilled fish off of his back, and tried to get up again, but his body remained immobile. Through his blurred vision, he noticed his father's pleading eyes for him to get up and escape, but he remained where he was. Shuuhei didn't run from fights. That would make him a coward.

 _I have to help him. I NEED to help him! I need to SAVE him!_ Shuuhei chanted over and over, as if saying those words would empower him. _I need to save him! I have to save him! I need strength-!_

_You want to be strong?_

The voice was chilling, dark, and Shuuhei nearly froze at the sound of it. His mouth was agape, and he felt his eyes widening. What made it worse, was how the voice was projected from _inside_ his mind. Briefly, Shuuhei thought he had lost his sanity. Everything around him grew still, and there was only silence. He saw the thug towering over his father, his hand reaching for his dagger, and his father had his arms up to block his face. It was like time had stopped.*

 _What's happening?_ Shuuhei thought frantically. Did a voice really answer him? Was he imagining things?

 _I'm not your imagination, crybaby,_ the chilling voice answered, annoyed. Shuuhei let out a gasp, stumbling back in surprise. _Oh come on, don't tell me those words were a fluke._

"Who are you?" he demanded. "How are you hearing my thoughts?"

The voice scoffed. _You don't deserve to know my name yet, kid, and you still didn't answer me: do you want to be strong?_

Shuuhei hesitated. He had no idea when and how this voice started talking to him, and it wasn't too keen on disclosing those details. He could be going mad, but given the situation he was in, Shuuhei thought it wouldn't hurt to indulge the voice in his head.

"Yes, I want to be strong!" Shuuhei said at last. "Why does that matter to you?"

 _Everything, you fool!_ The voice said with impatience. _You want to save your pops, right? I can give you that._

Now that got Shuuhei on edge. "What do you mean?"

 _It means exactly what it sounds like!_ The voice said irritably. _I can give YOU the strength you crave. If you want it, that is._

Shuuhei grew annoyed by the voice's arrogance. "I know that much, stupid voice in my head. What I meant, is how you are going to give me that strength? I don't even know if I should trust you."

 _Trust, huh?_ It sounded amused. _Then how about this: do you trust yourself, Shuuhei?_

"Yeah."

 _Then you can trust me,_ it insisted. _Besides, it's not like you have much of a choice. You can't even get up on your own._

"I was working on that before you interrupted," Shuuhei retorted. The voice gave a laugh. It sounded so _menacing_ that it sent chills down his spine. "What do you want out of this?"

This time, it was the voice's turn to be confused. _Huh?_

Shuuhei rolled his eyes, "I'm no idiot, voice. You sound pretty cocky about offering your strength. So it's either you're bluffing or your strength is the real deal. What's your price?"

Shuuhei would be damned (even more) if he didn't know about that. Ever since he stepped foot into this world, he knew there was no such thing as a free lunch, literally and figuratively. It all depended on what form the price took. It could be money, food, power, or so forth. So when some mysterious voice in his head started to offer strength, he knew he had to prepare his bargaining skills.

_What if I told you, 'I don't have one'?_

"I don't believe you," he said. "Why would you help me for free? You're not that nice."

 _Ha! Judging me already, Shuuhei?_ The voice mocked. _I guess I might like you after all. Alright. Since it sounds like you want my help, I'll tell you my price after we get your pops safe and sound. How about it?_

Shuuhei nodded. "Sounds good to me, but if your so called strength turns out to be a bluff, you can forget about payment and I'll want you out of my head."

_Gotcha._

Seconds later, Shuuhei felt a wave of energy slam into him. His arms and legs stopped trembling as time began to unfreeze. His vision became clear, and when he willed it, his body stood up easily. He could feel his injuries start to heal and fade, making him appear less haggard. For the first time, Shuuhei felt like he could do _anything._

He noticed the broken spear on the ground first, before his grey eyes saw the thug moving his right hand to his dagger in slow motion. The dark-haired boy ran swiftly to pick up the pointed end of his spear, and while the thug was still unaware of him, Shuuhei plunged his broken weapon into the man's back.

The man screamed in agony, and to be sure, Shuuhei pushed his whole body forward, causing more blood to stream out of the man's body before pulling it out roughly. The man stumbled, his face finally turning around to face him. His white pupils and blood-stained mouth caused Shuuhei to seize up before he took a couple steps back to avoid the man's fallen body.

He noticed his father staring at him incredulously before his eyes closed, his body too injured and weary to stay awake. This action reminded Shuuhei of his main goal. He first picked up his basket of food, and stuffed his broken spear inside. Then, he stepped over the dead body quickly, and lifted one of his father's arms over his neck, and helped him up.

"Hold on, Otou-san," he whispered into father's ear. "I'll make sure we get home. I promise."

With strength he didn't know he possessed, Shuuhei discreetly carried his father all the way home.

-o-

When the old shack finally came into view, Shuuhei wasted no time in placing his father onto his bed and dressing his wounds with makeshift bandages and ointment. After seeing his father treat his injuries so many times before, Shuuhei was proud to say he had gained enough medical knowledge to treat his father, and be certain that he would make a steady recovery. He was thankful that the thug didn't take out his dagger sooner, and only wanted to kick his father around for sport. Bruises and minor cuts were easier to deal with than bloody gashes.

Still, it was likely that his father may have sustained a couple broken ribs, as well as a broken wrist. Shuuhei had managed to bandage those tightly, and he reminded himself to gather old bark to create a cast for his arm.

Once his father was well-rested, Shuuhei slumped down on one wall to catch his breath, his body starting to grow tired again. That surge of energy he experienced earlier was starting to disappear.

 _So am I awesome or am I awesome?_ That voice boasted loudly, causing Shuuhei to groan and roll his eyes. He really didn't want to deal with the voice right now. He had no idea how the voice managed to keep his end of the bargain, and he was too tired to care. He desperately wanted to sleep.

"You again," he murmured. He didn't want to risk waking his father up.

 _You got that right,_ the voice said. _Don't ever think you'll get rid of me that easily. Now that I know you can hear me, you can bet on having a chat with me every day!_

Oh great. That was exactly what he wanted to hear.

Shuuhei sighed, not really listening. His eyes were already drooping. "Yeah, sure. Look, I'm really tired out right now. Can we talk later…whatever you call yourself?"

 _You're bummed out already?_ The voice exclaimed. Shuuhei didn't bother to respond. _Tch, you humans are so weak, but I got to hand it to you, kid. Even I didn't expect you to kill that thug so quickly, and that stab in the back? Classic._

Shuuhei scowled at the reminder. He had killed a man today. That should have meant something, yet, he didn't feel anything. No guilt, no remorse, nothing. But was that such a bad thing? The thug had deserved it for hurting him and his father. He had killed in order to _protect._ It was more like an act of defense than a murder.

 _You keep telling yourself that, and we'll get along great._ The voice said happily.

 _Oh shut up,_ he grumbled weakly, drifting into sleep, _and quit reading my thoughts!_

_Don't count on it._

He was definitely going insane.

-o-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The time freeze is very much like how 'Zangetsu' appeared before Ichigo during his fight against Zaraki. Since this was Hisagi's first time speaking to his zanpakuto spirit, I figure Kazeshini would try that same tactic.


	5. Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuuhei and Kazeshini get to know each other.

Late in the night, Shuuhei had the strangest dream.

_He remembered being in a field. The weather was warm and dry, and he was standing among tall lengths of grass that brushed against his bare arms and legs lightly. He was dressed in a plain brown yukata, and he was barefooted. He looked around, noticing little vegetation and trees, and the field seemed to stretch on endlessly. The sky was a dark red with streaks of orange. It appeared ominous._

_Shuuhei wondered what he was doing here. He never had a dream like this before. It was rare for him to dream, and when he did, it was often about leaving Black Trail behind with his friends and father. Instead, he was stuck here all by himself._

_Abruptly, there was a strong surge of wind that swept through the whole landscape. Shuuhei lifted his hands to defend his face from the impact, but was surprised to feel a soft breeze. The sensation was cool and relaxing, and the boy lowered his hands to feel the wind's full force. He spread his arms out, allowing the wind to keep him upright. Shuuhei smiled and started laughing. It felt incredible. He hadn't laughed like this in a long time. He hadn't felt this FREE._

_He took off in a dash. Running as fast as he could while laughing all the way. He jumped a couple times to avoid small boulders and rocks. No matter how long he ran, Shuuhei didn't feel the least bit tired, and the limitless energy he felt only pushed him to run faster and harder…_

… _until he reached a cliff._

_Shuuhei's arms wobbled as he forced himself back. If he had moved an inch further, he would have fallen. The winds were blowing hard against his face, and from below, he could only see floating reddish clouds. It looked like a soft red cushion. The wind continued to howl, and if he wasn't imagining it, he would have sworn the wind was trying to scream something…_

Shuuhei woke up.

There was a soft breeze that swept in from the open window, and the lighting was dim. Shuuhei could smell the nostalgic mustiness that surrounded him as he slowly got up from the floor. His whole body ached from the awkward sleeping position. He flexed his arms as he walked back and forth in small steps. He stopped briefly to check on his father: he was still sound asleep.

Shuuhei smiled briefly before he ducked his head to enter a smaller room in the back of the shack. It was their storage area, where his father placed his herbs, inks, and their food supply. He noticed the sacks of soybeans and rice, as well as different bottles of ink stacked beside it. He looked around the dark room until his eyes finally found what he was looking for. He picked up a hand-made reed basket, and went outside to gather some bark.

While he was gathering bits and pieces in the nearby wood, his peaceful state of mind was interrupted.

_What 'cha doing?_

Shuuhei yelped, falling back before he grasped the edge of a tree to steady himself. "Y-you again!"

The voice in his head sounded irritated. _No shit, it's 'me' again. Who did you expect, Shuuhei? I told ya I'd be chatting with ya, and I meant it._

"What do you want?" he hissed. He looked around discreetly, making sure there was no one in earshot, even though he was usually alone. He didn't want to risk the chance of anyone seeing him talking to himself and mistaking him for being crazy. "You scared me."

 _Didn't take much on my part,_ it muttered. Shuuhei scowled. _Did you forget about our deal yesterday?_

The boy swallowed uncomfortably. Oh, he remembered all right. He just didn't want to believe that there was really another… _entity_ residing inside his mind. Shuuhei had hoped that yesterday's events was by chance, a one-time thing. All that power he experienced, and the way he killed that man without blinking an eye? There was no way he could have done all that. It wasn't possible for him. Shuuhei wanted to forget about the whole thing, and push it aside.

He should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

"I remember," he said hesitantly. Shuuhei hoped the price wasn't something he'd regret. "You came up with something?"

 _Yeah,_ it answered. _I finally know what I want._

"Which is…?"

_I want you to use me._

Shuuhei blinked. He wasn't expecting that _at all_. "What?"

 _You heard me! I want you to USE ME! Just like you did yesterday!_ The voice exclaimed. _The way you used my power that time, that rush of energy as you stabbed that thug…_ the voice sighed contently, like it was experiencing a euphoria. _I want you to do it AGAIN!_

"You want me to _kill_ someone?!" he said incredulously. He shook his head vigorously. "No, no, _no!_ I am not doing that again! _No way!"_

_You didn't have a problem before. Why the sudden change?_

"That's different!" he protested. "My otou-san was in danger. I had to put down that man or else he wouldn't let my otou-san live! I only did it to protect him!"

 _Whatever rocks your boat,_ it said absentmindedly. _But you're missing the important part, Shuuhei. I didn't say it had to be a person._

Shuuhei frowned. "Not…a person? Then what…" He paused, suddenly realizing what the thing was asking for. "You're not talking about _hollows_ …are you?"

 _Hollows, people, whatever!_ The voice said with glee. Shuuhei remained silent, too stunned by what that answer meant. _As long as the victim is living…it doesn't matter! I want you to use me to put them down! If you want them to be hollows, then be my guest!_

Hollows. This…being in his head wanted to kill hollows. It believed that it _could_ kill hollows. That could only mean one thing.

"What…are you?" Shuuhei could hear the sound of his heart beating rapidly. It drowned out the bristling wind, the soft bustling waves in the nearby lake.

_I'm a manifestation of your soul._

"My…soul…."he whispered in disbelief. He closed his eyes, and tried to breathe properly. Even without some alien thing occupying his head, Shuuhei's mind was in a mess, struggling to understand. This thing's got to be joking with him. It's got to be.

"Are you bullshitting me?" he demanded.

 _I ain't kidding with ya,_ the voice answered. _Like it or not, you and I are one and the same._

"You mean we're stuck together _for good_?" Shuuhei said incredulously.

 _Hey, I'm the one who got the short end of the stick, kiddo,_ it grumbled. _At least ya got a body to move around in!_

The boy threw his arms up, suddenly so frustrated with his newfound dilemma that he became wordless. He took a couple deep breaths before he thought of something critical. "Okay, suppose you are my soul. That would mean you were always there all along, right? Why are you only starting to talk to me?"

 _I've always been trying to talk to ya!_ The voice muttered. _It's not my fault ya always trying to ignore me and block me out. You were always going on and on about your pops and your friends! How was I supposed to get my voice heard when you don't bother to listen?_

"Hold on," Shuuhei said. "You've been trying to get my attention?"

_That's what I said._

"When did this start?" he asked. "If you were there all the time, how come you didn't help me back when I was starving on the streets? I definitely would have heard you then."

 _It's not that simple,_ the voice replied. _Back then, I was still trying to have a voice of my own. I was in a dormant state; laid hidden inside you until I gained the energy I needed to break out. If I hadn't got that energy, then I wouldn't be able to talk to you, and you'd be just like all those weak-ass spirits._

"What kind of energy are you talking about?"

_The spiritual kind of course! You know, like that tough Shinigami you met months back._

"Shinigami…" Shuuhei whispered, and then it all clicked. "Wait, do you mean _Kensei-san_? The one wearing the white coat who took down that hollow?"

_I don't remember his name, but yeah, he's the one._

"Kensei…is the reason you appeared?" he said in disbelief.

_Yeah._

Shuuhei still didn't get it. "B-but how?"

The voice sighed, sounding impatient yet again. _Do I have to spell everything out for ya, kid? The spiritual energy you got from what's his face-!_

"Kensei," he interrupted. "His name's Kensei."

 _Sure,_ the voice dismissed. _When you saw him take down that hollow, his spiritual energy was coming off in waves. You just happened to be nearby to absorb some of that strong stuff. Since he was a high ranking Shinigami, his energy was more than enough for me to manifest.*_

The boy looked down on his lap, trying to remember what had happened that day. He recalled how his body felt strained, like the air was knocked out of him, causing him to crumble to the ground. Was that the energy this thing in his head was talking about? If it was, how did he absorb it? Could it happen to anyone?

 _It ain't that easy,_ the voice answered. _You already had spiritual energy of your own. The energy you got from that Shinigami only amplified it. If you didn't have energy in the first place, then you wouldn't have felt a thing and that energy would have passed you by like air._

"So anyone who has spirit energy and witnesses a Shinigami in battle could potentially get someone like you in their head?" he reiterated.

The voice gave a laugh, startling him. _Sure, kid, if their soul is as strong as ours._

Shuuhei scoffed. "Look, voice, you got to know that I'm not as strong as you claim me to be. I am a kid who lives in a dirt poor district that gets beaten up more times than I can count. Is that strong?"

_Hell no! That's weak as shit._

Shuuhei grew irritated. "Then why did you say-!"

_I said OUR soul. Not yours or mine. Sure, you were a weak-ass kid. You get beaten down easily, and you cry too much. You feel as though you can't do a thing to change the situation. You feel depressed and angry and bitter towards the world. But that's all before you got ME. I can't do anything on my own either. I don't even have a body, but I do have YOU and you have me. We work together…then nothing is impossible!_

Shuuhei hitched a breath, not even realizing that his mouth was slightly agape, and his grey eyes a bit wider than before. He didn't mean to take the voice seriously, but he felt encouraged, hopeful. He hadn't felt this optimistic since his arrival to Soul Society. Shuuhei had dreamt of leaving Black Trail behind, and if possible, take his father with him. As each day went by, however, his dream of escaping became dim. He realized what little means he had of starting his afterlife anew, and the world was a dangerous place. He thought he was doomed to die (again) in this hell-hole.

Now, there was a voice in his head insisting that his dream was possible. Shuuhei _could_ escape, and all the voice wanted was his cooperation. It wanted to kill, and the victims didn't have to be people—it could be hollows. Ever since Asuya died, Shuuhei hated hollows with a passion. He had no qualms against killing them, if he could. These conditions were a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things, but there was one thing still troubling him.

"If I agree to use you, a-and kill…hollows," he forced out. "Will I have to become a shinigami? I remember Taro telling me how Shinigami had these swords with special abilities in them from his relative, and it's rumored that their swords are _alive_. Is that what you are?"

 _I guess, but that's up to you, Shuuhei,_ it said. _Shinigami are the ones with the tools. If you want to use me properly, then you'll have to get training from that school of theirs._

 _Shino Academy_ , also known as the Spiritual Arts School. Shuuhei never thought that name would ever pop up, since he never considered applying…until now. As far as he knew, the shinigami lived comfortably. They received good pay, and they always went to bed full. If they were of high rank, then they could own lots of property, prestige, and fame. They could even raise a family.

Except, a shinigami's job was dangerous. There was always a risk of getting killed on each mission they were sent out on. They spent their whole life fighting until they retired or dropped dead, and that wasn't something Shuuhei was too keen on. He felt doubt and fear start to crawl in. He couldn't be a shinigami. Shuuhei didn't believe he had the talent for it, or the heart. He didn't _want_ to be a shinigami. He didn't want to face danger and risk his life or worse.

 _What choice do I have?_ He thought morbidly. _Being a shinigami must be a better alternative than what I have now._

The voice sounded thoughtful. _You're really against being a shinigami, huh?_ Shuuhei was silent. _Ya know,_ _if you really don't want to go to that school, I could train you myself._

Shuuhei snapped his head up in surprise. "Y-you can?"

_You bet._

He didn't think of that. If the voice in his head was capable of teaching him the same things the Academy taught, then there was no need for Shuuhei to enroll. He would be able to grow stronger, harness the new power he discovered, and protect those he felt were worth protecting. If strangers wanted to use his strength, then Shuuhei could charge them-like a freelance mercenary. If it got too risky, then Shuuhei had no obligations (like the shinigami) to continue the task. He could back out anytime he wanted. Once he gained enough money, he could start a new life outside of this dump and take his father with him, maybe start a business of his own.

It didn't sound like a bad plan.

"Okay," Shuuhei said quietly. He paused a moment to think what he wanted to say. "If I work with you, agree with whatever you said, will you give me the means to become stronger?"

Shuuhei could imagine the voice smirking. _I can give you that and MORE. But you got to work hard, kid. If you want my strength, you got to have what it takes to control it. Hollows are a nuisance, and they're not as weak as that thug you took out._

He figured as much. "Alright, but let's get one thing clear: I do _not_ kill anyone or anything other than hollows and people who harm my family and friends. Got it?"

 _If that's what you want,_ the voice muttered. _But if you ever change your mind…_

"I won't," he said firmly.

… _you can leave the killing to me,_ the voice continued. _That will be my part of the deal. You won't need to suffer any blame for it. I'll take the credit. You okay with that?_

"It won't come to that," Shuuhei insisted.

_We'll see, Shuuhei._

-o-

Shuuhei quickly gathered all the materials he needed before he returned home. He set the reed basket filled with old bark by the door, and went in to check on his father. He found his father sitting up in his mat. The boy quickly knelt by him, worried.

"You have to be careful, otou-san," he softly reprimanded. "Your body is still healing. Don't get up so fast."

His father's eyes were scrunched up, and he lifted a hand to touch his forehead. "How…did we come back here, Shuuhei? I remember being on the ground, and then it went black…"

 _He doesn't remember,_ Shuuhei thought. His father didn't remember seeing him kill a man for the first time. Somehow, Shuuhei was thankful for that.

"It doesn't matter anymore, otou-san," he eluded. "You need to rest more, and make sure you don't move around as much. I'll make sure to handle the customers and prepare the food."

"Are you alright, Shuuhei?" he inquired. "Did that man hurt you badly?"

He hesitated. His body was alright, miraculously. His mind, however, was a different story. He now had a voice who claimed to be a manifestation of his soul. If that didn't ring crazy, Shuuhei didn't know what would. He pondered briefly whether he should tell his father about this, but quickly decided against it. His father needed to focus on taking care of himself first. Shuuhei didn't want to worry him needlessly.

"I'm fine, otou-san," he said at last. "That thug didn't harm me." _Nothing permanent._ "He's…he's gone now."

Fortunately, his father didn't press him any further. "Thank Kami."

Shuuhei nodded before he went back out to fetch his basket. He sat down beside his father and proceeded to stick the bark pieces together with sticky aloe before putting it around his father's arm, tying it together with cloth. For the next few weeks, Shuuhei would repeat this process until his father's arm finally healed enough, and he could walk properly again. He stayed at home almost all the time, not leaving his father alone in case he needed help. He was so occupied that he rarely saw his friends except on errands, and the voice in his head wasn't much help. It kept nagging at him to go out and _use_ him.

"I told you already, I'll use you as soon as my otou-san is alright," he said impatiently. He was sitting outside by a small stream behind their shack, dipping his hands in the water to wash the few clay pots and plates they owned. "Quit pestering me!"

 _Shuuhei,_ it demanded. _Is your pops bleeding to death? Is he barely clinging on to life?_

"No, but-!"

 _Then put those damn plates away and let's start already!_ It said impatiently. _Hollows aren't going to just keel over and die! You need to start training NOW._

"I will!" Shuuhei snapped. "Just not now!"

_Why the hell not?!_

"Because my otou-san isn't fine yet," he said. "I can't go out when he still has trouble doing business with his customers or when he can't even bend down to pick up things. Dairo and Kento will soon be coming by again, and we need to have enough money to pay them."

The voice scoffed indignantly. _Those two can go suck on shit! Why don't we just do away with them? They can't be that much harder to handle than that other guy. We can take 'em!_

He sighed. "You still don't get it do you? We kill them, we'll get bigger problems on our hands. Our protection would be gone."

The voice was incredulous. _You're the one that doesn't get it! Didn't ya tell me you wanted to be strong to protect people? Where did all that resolve go?! Who needs them when you're here? Ya don't need to deal with them any longer if you would only get your lazy ass up and do what I'd tell you, dumbass!_

"I don't want to deal with trouble that's beyond me!" he argued. "Dairo and Kento may be small fry to you, but there are criminals out there that are even more dangerous than they are! I don't think I can take them-!"

 _Excuses!_ It snapped. _Ya don't lack the strength, Shuuhei, you lack the guts! You're being a COWARD!_

Shuuhei felt an angry tick mark forming. "I'm not a coward!"

_Prove it!_

He clenched his jaw. "Tomorrow, okay? I'll start training with you tomorrow. I can promise you that much. I'll prove you otherwise until then."

The voice was exasperated. _Tch, fine. Tomorrow and no later! Or I'll annoy the hell out of you at night!_

Shuuhei rolled his eyes, releasing an exasperated groan before gathering the cleaned plates into the basket to take back. He heard his father crushing plants with his carved tools in the back room as he gathered his pack and newly-made fishing spear. After giving a quick departing word, Shuuhei left the shack and met up with the rest of his friends at the usual spot.

They made small talk, and each of them soon caught their fill. While they packed up, Taro took a small leather bag out of his satchel and handed it to Shuuhei. Shuuhei was confused until he saw that the satchel contained coins and two small loaves of freshly baked bread.

"It's a gift," Taro said sheepishly, scratching his head. "I…I never got to thank you for saving me months ago. It's been weighing on my mind a lot. You were also hurt because of _me_ , and I didn't know what I could do to repay you so..." Shuuhei was stunned. "It's not much, but it should help you and your otou-san out."

"Arigato, Taro," Shuuhei smiled. He held the bag tightly in one hand and placed another hand on Taro's shoulder in a friendly gesture. "This is…this is more than enough on your part. I'm glad to help you anytime, Taro."

"How is your otou-san, Shuuhei?" Hikaru asked. "Is he getting better?"

"He is," he confirmed. "Maybe a few more days of rest, and he'll be back to normal."

"That's great!" Taro exclaimed. Hikaru nodded, agreeing with him.

"Does that mean we'll see you more often?" Hikaru asked.

Before Shuuhei could answer, the voice in his head interrupted. _Tomorrow, Shuuhei. No later!_

 _I know,_ he thought back. _I didn't forget._

_Ya better not._

"Shuuhei?" Taro said hesitantly, snapping Shuuhei out of the mental conversation.

"I…I can't say," he said finally. "Some things turn up…but I'll try to see you guys more often once I get it all settled."

Hikaru grew suspicious. "What sort of things?"

 _Go on, Shuuhei,_ the voice urged. It sounded like it was on the verge of laughing. _Tell them. Tell them about your new pal._

Shuuhei had difficulty keeping his countenance neutral. "It's nothing, Hikaru. My otou-san needs me to get…special ingredients for his ink."

"Oh," Hikaru said. "If it's just that…I hope you find what you need."

"Yeah," he agreed. "I hope so too."

-o-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't be the only one that thinks it is too much of a coincidence that Kensei's and Hisagi's zanpakutos are of the wind element. Kensei's sword spirit is Takikaze (Earth-Shattering Wind) while Hisagi's is Kazeshini, which we know as 'Death Wind'. Taking in that similarity into account, I figured that it was because of Kensei's spirit energy that caused Kazeshini to come forth much earlier than normal accounts. It's similar to how Chad and Orihime got their abilities awakened indirectly by Ichigo.


	6. Spirit Energy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuuhei starts to learn the ins and outs of his spiritual power.

The next day, Shuuhei was up before the crack of dawn.

True to its word, the voice in his head wasted no time in getting (forcing) the tired boy to wake, and told him to find an isolated location. Shuuhei had to make an effort in sneaking past his sleeping guardian, who thankfully, didn't suspect anything different about him, and Shuuhei made sure that fact remained unchanged. A part of him wanted to tell his father what was going on, but he didn't want to burden him further. His father wouldn't understand, and there wasn't anything he could do.

He stood at the edge of a shallow stream, his bare feet lightly brushing against the current. Shuuhei sighed as a breeze swept through him, the wind rippling through his dark, messy hair. He tried to relax so he could tone down his growing anticipation and uneasiness. He wanted to learn what the voice offered to teach him, but he was also cautious of what these lessons entailed.

 _You ready?_ The voice asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Tell me what I need to do."

_Alright! Today, we'll start with your spirit energy. Ya know what that is?"_

Shuuhei rolled his eyes. "Yeah. It's everywhere here. It's impossible to not know what that is."

 _Just checking,_ the voice said. _Do you know what spiritual POWER is?_

"Spiritual power..." he muttered. "I'm guessing that it's connected with spirit energy and it's what the shinigami have, right?"

 _Yes, spiritual power can only come from people with above average levels of spirit energy. It's what grants those shinigami their abilities to fight against hollows and makes them different from other souls,_ it explained. _We both know we already qualify for having spiritual power, but you have yet to convert your energy to that power. That's what my training is all about._

"Okay," Shuuhei said. "What do you have planned?"

 _The first lessons will be boring,_ the voice warned, _but it's also the most important. We can't hope to reach the level we want without establishing strong foundations. So ya better bear with me! I don't want to deal with any of your whining!_

"I will," Shuuhei insisted, slightly offended by the voice's lack of faith. "I know that your training is going to take time, and probably a lot of patience. I know what I'm getting into."

The voice sounded skeptical. _We'll see._

The boy nodded. He had spent last night thinking up what types of training the voice would teach him. He knew that his first lesson wasn't going to be too exciting, but it was one step closer to achieving his dream. As long as he kept his goals in mind, Shuuhei was certain he would fulfill the voice's expectations.

 _Do ya want to know why I asked you to come here?_ The voice asked. _To a large space with no one present?_

"So we don't attract attention?" he guessed.

 _On the contrary!_ The voice exclaimed. _I want you to attract as much attention as possible. I want to test how much spirit energy you can let out at once._

Shuuhei frowned. "But wouldn't having too much energy out attract hollows?"

_Oh, ya know about that?_

"I'm not stupid," he snapped. "What are you trying to do? I don't want any hollows to come here!"

 _Ya don't need to worry about that,_ the voice reassured. _With the way you are now, I doubt your energy can attract a fly._

He ignored the voice's attempt to rile him. "What about earlier? We had enough energy to take down that thug. Why not attract a hollow?"

 _That was MY energy,_ the voice corrected. _I already know how to control my spirit energy. You don't. I want to see how much energy ya have in ya, kid—WITHOUT my input._

Shuuhei hesitated. "If that was all your energy earlier, then how can I release mine?" Spirit energy was intangible. It wasn't something Shuuhei could pull out of a bag.

 _Ya just need to focus,_ the voice instructed. _Concentrate. Ignore what's around you. It's super easy. You'll get it quickly._

He remained dubious, but he had no choice but to take its word for it. All he needed to do was focus, huh? He could do that. Shuuhei inhaled and exhaled slowly, forcing himself to calm down. The soft breeze and the sound of rippling water also helped him. He sat down with folded legs, his hands on his lap, and then, he closed his eyes.

_Concentrate...ignore what's around you..._

Shuuhei didn't expect much. From what Taro had told him, the academy students take years under professional guidance to master their skills before becoming official shinigami. For a boy who was doing all this on his own, Shuuhei doubted he'd achieve anything on his first day. Even so, Shuuhei tried. He remembered his future goals, his father, before focusing on the spirit energy that resided deep inside him. He felt a sudden jolt, like an electric shock had coursed through his body.

He opened his eyes.

The atmosphere around him felt heavier, denser. Shuuhei could feel his energy emitting out of him, and his body was strained from the effort. The wind seemed to stop, and the water ceased flowing. He tried to keep going, but soon, he was forced to let go. The air quickly became lighter as the boy fell forward, his palms pressed to the mushy ground. He was out of breath.

 _Not bad, kid,_ the voice whistled. _I wasn't expecting you to skip ahead to lesson three._

"L-lesson...three?" Shuuhei panted.

 _Intimidation,_ the voice said. _Ya converted your energy to spiritual PRESSURE. Call me impressed._

"S-spiritual pressure?"

_Ya know, making your spiritual energy physically felt by any spirit-sensitive thing. It's a way of using your spirit energy as a warning to lesser foes. Tell 'em not to mess with ya without doing any fighting._

Shuuhei swallowed heavily to catch his breath. "Can I avoid that? How can I...release my energy without turning it into pressure?"

 _Ya just need to keep your mind BLANK, Shuuhei,_ it said. _You're too distracted by your motivations. While being motivated ain't all that bad, those feelings ain't helping you right now. Ya also feel...threatened. Scared._

"I'm not scared!" he protested.

 _I'm calling it as I see it,_ the voice muttered. _Spirit energy is our essence, Shuuhei. It can do what ya tell it to do, but it's highly sensitive to your emotions. If ya don't calm down and focus, it's going to get confused and do something different. Ya need to make it OBEY you._

"Okay," he replied. The boy settled down once more, and started to breathe normally. "I just need to keep my mind blank. Completely blank..."

 _Relax,_ it said. _Quit worrying! Leave that to the adults, kid._

The young boy took a deep breath, and realized how tense he was. He loosened up his shoulders, kept his arms limp while keeping a straight back- a posture he often witnessed from his father before starting a painting. Shuuhei recalled how his father had sat in silence for a while, completely still, before picking up a single brush. It was like he was trying to visualize what he wanted: what strokes worked best, which colors went where.

Moments later, Shuuhei felt something surging inside him, like the turning of a switch. It felt similar to what he did the first time, but the feeling wasn't as forceful. Instead, it was mellow and almost...soft. Even without looking up, the boy knew that he had succeeded. He could almost see his spiritual energy swirling about, wrapping itself around him like a worn blanket.

 _See?_ The voice smirked. _Told ya it'd be easy._

Without realizing, Shuuhei smiled. He had done it, and for the first time in a long while, he was happy and proud of himself. He grew excited, and almost wished that he could tell his father and friends about it.

"I did it," Shuuhei said aloud, making sure this was real. "I...I _really_ did it!"

 _Oh come on, Shuuhei,_ the voice snorted. _This is nothing to be proud of. You've done nothing yet._

"It isn't nothing," Shuuhei said. "This skill, controlling my energy and pressure, tells me that I really do have potential and that your training wasn't a bluff."

 _A BLUFF?!_ The voice repeated, incredulous. Then, it started to give that cold, malevolent laugh. _Ya still don't trust me. Figures._

"You've helped me a lot, I'll give you that," Shuuhei said, "but until I know who you really are, I'm never going to trust you completely."

 _If that's how ya want to play,_ it muttered. _Your doubts annoy me, but it's not going to get me to reveal my true name._

The boy rolled his eyes, and allowed his spiritual energy to die down. "Will you ever tell me your real name? I don't think you like me calling you 'voice' or 'it'."

 _Of course I don't!_ The voice snapped. _I hate being nameless!_

"Then why..."

 _Ya think I have a CHOICE in keeping my name from ya?_ It exclaimed. _You're not ready, kid! You are NOT strong enough to know it yet. You only just started, Shuuhei, but one day...I'm sure you'll come to know me._

Shuuhei was startled to hear how _wistful_ the voice sounded. Its last claim was borderline _affectionate_ , and the foreign tone had caught Shuuhei unaware and made him very confused. He had grown used to hearing it speak harshly and irritably, and its voice fits Shuuhei's image of a demon. He felt the edges of his lips turn up briefly. So the training wasn't as one-sided as he first thought. The voice had something else to gain other than self-preservation: it eagerly wanted _his_ recognition, and this new discovery allowed Shuuhei to understand the voice in a better light.

"I just need to get stronger, right?" Shuuhei surmised. "You'd tell me your name once I'm at your level?"

_I'll SCREAM it at ya so many times you'd beg me to stop._

The boy gave a short laugh. "You better."

-o-

For the next three months, Shuuhei trained vigorously. Whenever he had any spare time, he would be outside by the stream, perfecting his control over his spirit energy. He had grown more adept at controlling his spirit pressure, _reiatsu_ , and he could release his spirit energy easily. Once he'd fulfilled that criteria, the voice had taught him how to use his _reikaku,_ spirit sense. Shuuhei trained his reikaku every time he went to the market or whenever he was in the company of other souls. At first, the training had been tedious. Most of the inhabitants of Black Trail lacked any spirit energy (and therefore reiatsu), making it especially difficult for Shuuhei to detect anything. His first encounter with another soul's spiritual pressure was when Hikaru got into an accident during a fishing trip.

It was a minor injury. Hikaru had lost his footing on loose gravel and sprained his ankle when he fell into the water. Shuuhei and Taro were right beside their friend as they helped him up. As Hikaru winced in pain, Shuuhei had sensed a spiritual fluctuation coming from his injured friend. Hikaru's spirit energy, although little, had gone up significantly and Shuuhei could read how troubled his energy felt.

It seemed that Hikaru was completely unaware of what his spirit energy was doing. His friend continued to grunt in pain as he hanged onto his friends' offered shoulders. Shuuhei could feel his reiatsu twitching, going up and down many times until Hikaru's ankle was treated. They had taken him to his home, and while Shuuhei and Taro remained outside, Shuuhei sensed how his friend's reiatsu had vanished noticeably. When they inquired of his condition, his surrogate mother told them that Hikaru has been treated and was resting. He recalled the voice telling him how spirit energy was heavily influenced by a soul's condition, and Hikaru's brief energy flux was like a cry for help.

His second encounter with spiritual pressure came from Kento and Dairo. They came at the usual time and place, and unlike other times, Shuuhei made sure to stay beside his father at their arrival. In case any problems arose, he wanted to be there to protect his father, who only recently gained back his health. His father had the money ready (with the required interest) and handed the bag to Kento quickly. During that brief exchange, Shuuhei concentrated and determined how both thugs had reiatsu; Kento's being slightly lower than his burly companion's.

Unfortunately, Kento took his staring as a provocation. "What are you looking at, brat?"

"Nothing," he murmured quickly, looking away.

"Nothing _what_?" Kento sneered.

Shuuhei clenched his teeth, and struggled to hold back his anger. He forced himself to look up, his lips straining to form a smile. "N-nothing, Kento _-san_."

He dipped his head down again, his cheeks red with humiliation. He had been forced to show his 'respect' to Kento ever since he attacked him and Dairo months earlier. If he didn't do as he asked, Kento would reward him with a beating. The voice inside his mind had kept urging him to fight back, but Shuuhei resisted the temptation. He couldn't take down Kento or Dairo alone, much less both of them at once. He wasn't strong enough yet.

Kento smirked at him. "Very good, kid." The sarcasm was evident. "Children should know who their superiors are." Suddenly, the man grabbed Shuuhei's head and forced his face up again, shocking him. "You should thank me for _reeducating_ you. Don't you think so, Dairo?"

Dairo looked amused, and continued to observe. "Sure."

Predictably, the voice inside his head became livid. _How about I REEDUCATE ya, ya piece of shit?! Are ya seriously taking this, Shuuhei?! Just give me the word and I will KILL this bastard!_

Despite the voice's protests, and how his arms were itching to strangle the thug's neck, Shuuhei noticed his father looking at him, stern, but also apologetic. That was when Shuuhei _knew_ that his father could do nothing to help him, and that realization hurt Shuuhei more than anything Kento could say to him. He also noticed Dairo's hand clenching his weapon suggestively. Given his circumstances, the young boy's eyes were downcast and he clenched his hands to maintain his control.

"T-thank you, Kento-san," he replied. His forced submission tasted bitter in his mouth. He heard the voice scoff angrily. Kento looked pleased as he finally let go of his head and addressed his father.

"Until next time," the thug said. His tossed the coin bag into the air, treating their entire month's spending like a plaything. Kento turned his back and Dairo followed his partner out.

"Son..." his father started, but Shuuhei wouldn't let him.

"I know what you're going to say," he muttered, "and I don't want to hear them. I'm going out."

He didn't want to face his father. He was _too angry_ to.

He went inside, slung his reed basket over his shoulders, and picked up his spear on the way out. He didn't bother addressing his father again, leaving him alone on the porch. While he trudged through the nearby wood, the voice in his head started to vent its frustrations loudly and obnoxiously. Shuuhei tried to tune it out as he mindlessly picked through the weeds for edible plants. Eventually, Shuuhei snapped.

 _...do ya want to be treated like shit?!_ The voice was saying. _Is that it?! I could've EASILY helped ya put that bastard down-!_

" _Shut up!"_ he yelled. He threw down the plants he had in his hands. "Stop treating me like I'm a dumbass! I may be a kid, but it doesn't mean I know nothing!"

The voice sounded stunned from his outburst. _Hold on, what-!_

"I know _you_ can help me get rid of them!" he shouted. His body started to tremble, and he felt his eyes water. "I know you can! In fact, it must be super easy for you! You must hate how you're stuck with a weak kid like me, don't you?!"

The voice wanted to cut in and say something, but again, Shuuhei didn't let it. He didn't even realize that his cheeks were wet with tears or how his voice had become ragged. The only thing that mattered to Shuuhei Hisagi was getting his points across to it.

" _I hate them!_ " the boy said vehemently. "I hate every single one of them! I hate how we have to skip meals to pay for those bastards' stupid protection! I hate the way they look down on us! I hate living here! I hate how my otou-san is so damn passive and won't do anything to change!"

The voice wisely kept silent as the dark-haired boy continued to rant, interrupted by snuffles.

"They need to be gone," Shuuhei said suddenly. The boy's eyes darkened as he lifted his hands to rub away the tears and snot. "They need to disappear for good! They're the root of all our problems! I thought I could put up with those bastards for my otou-san's sake, but I just _can't_ anymore! _To hell with them!_ "

The voice was confused. _If ya wanted them gone so badly, then why didn't ya let me...?_

The boy sniffled, and his grey eyes were swollen, but he spoke with a new resolve. "I'm...glad, that you want to help, but Kento and Dairo are _mine_ to deal with. You will help me make that happen."

 _Oh..._ the voice said, understanding. _Am I right to assume ya don't want me stealing your PREY, Shuuhei?_ The boy in question remained silent and it started to laugh. _And here I thought ya lacked the guts! My wielder is growing up! I'm so proud of ya-!_

"Save it," he muttered. He wasn't in the mood for jokes. He had a set goal in mind, but he can't accomplish it without its help. "So far, you've been teaching me how to control my spirit energy, but I also want you to train me how to fight."

 _You're serious, eh?_ The boy nodded. _Well, since you're so eager, who am I to refuse? When do ya want to start?_

"As soon as possible," Shuuhei insisted. "The sooner those bastards disappear, the happier I'll be."

 _It'll be hard, kid,_ the voice warned. _I had put this off for later for a reason, ya know. It's not a walk in the park._

"I don't care!" he exclaimed. "Nothing you put me through will _ever_ amount to what those bastards have done to me and my otou-san. I'll do whatever it takes!"

 _Your words,_ the voice said gleefully. _Ya better not regret them._

-o-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rather short, but it was difficult for me to characterize Kazeshini during Shuuhei's childhood since the two are not on bad terms. I hope I managed to keep him true to his character. As for the spirit energy training, I got all my info from the Bleach wiki with my own made-up specifications (Hikaru's case). Please leave your thoughts and/or predictions in your review! They really encourage me to continue this story, and I'm always curious to hear what readers think. Thanks!


	7. Sword Spirits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Shuuhei tries to resolve some inquiries and takes the Academy exam for the first time, and fails.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Apologies for the late update, since I really expected to get this chapter up way sooner. As most of you (if not all) have heard, Bleach is finally done. There will be no more Bleach chapters and there will be no reveal of Shuuhei’s bankai (which I have been dying to see). So, I’m going to pretend that the whole ‘Fullbringer’ and ‘Quincy’ Arc never happened, thus making this story an AU. If you have any thoughts regarding this change, please say so in your review.  
> Thank you all for being so patient and I appreciate all the support I’ve gotten for this story.  
> Enjoy the chapter.

**Chapter 6: Sword Spirits**

Shuuhei wanted to die.

He was wheezing and panting, every bone in his body threatened to snap as the boy pushed his body forward. His dark hair was stuck to his disgustingly wet skin. He was running, forcing his tired arms up and down to pace himself. He was so out of breath, that if he had any food in his stomach, Shuuhei would have puked it out long ago. He was growing more delirious by the second, and the voice wasn’t helping matters.

_Ya call that running, Shuuhei?! Put more backbone into it! Jeez, how out of shape are ya, kid?_

Shuuhei wanted to stop. He was already on his third lap around the whole village square, and each lap was roughly two and a half miles give or take. For someone who’d normally go half a lap a day walking, no one would fault him if he decided to end the marathon, but Shuuhei was resolute. He had already promised the voice that he’d listen to whatever instructions it gave him, and unless it told him to stop, Shuuhei wouldn’t stop. He wasn’t one to go back on his word.

He sluggishly turned a corner, his feet dragging themselves against wet slush. He saw the familiar shack up ahead, and just when he was about to pass it yet again, the voice stopped him.

 _Ya can stop now, kid._ The voice instructed. _We’re done for today._

The boy instantly collapsed, his chest heaving erratically. He felt like gagging, and his eyes felt pricked. This was only his third week of physical training. During the first week, it was 100 squats every day. During the second week, it was push-ups and splits. Shuuhei had thought his legs were going to break. The voice had told him that he needed to build up better stamina and muscle before learning any combat. Shuuhei sighed. They haven’t even gotten to the hard part, and his energy was already well-spent.

He sat down by the stream, dipping his hands into the cool water before splashing it against his sweaty face. He also made sure to drink the fresh water until his stomach was bloated. His breathing rate slowly returned to a normal steady pace as he got up, dusted the dirt off his yukata, and went inside the shack. The boy went in, knowing there was no one inside. His father was out doing business, and Shuuhei had purposely chosen this time to return to avoid unnecessary confrontation. He entered their storage room, and took a modest piece of bread out of a bag. No matter how hungry he was, Shuuhei forced himself to eat it slow. He savored each bite, and kept half inside the folds of clothes.

Shuuhei looked around the room, his grim eyes narrowing as he took in the meager sight. There were small bags of grain piled on the side. Their bread was nearly gone. The soybeans, as well as their supply of berries, rice, and nuts, were dangerously low. They had already run out of fish, and they rarely had any meat or dairy. Those were costly. Shuuhei fondly remembered how his father had bought ham on August 14th, his ‘birthday’. No one had real birthdays in Soul Society since a majority of them couldn’t remember their past life. Ironically, birthdays usually marked the day one died and entered their assigned district. In Shuuhei’s case, he couldn’t recall what day it was when he arrived, and he didn’t want to. Instead, August 14 was the day his father adopted him, and that was a date worth celebrating.

Shuuhei guiltily wiped the bread crumbs off his mouth as he made his way out. Lately, his appetite was growing. He didn’t know if it had to do with his physical development or spirit training, but the usual amount of food he had a day no longer satiated him. He always went to bed hungry, but the hunger had been tolerable. He had grown used to it, and usually bloating himself with water did the trick. Now, he made sure to curl himself into a fetal position whenever he slept, just so he could hide the loud growling noises more effectively.

He heard someone coming in, and saw his father placing his things down by the entrance.

Still feeling ashamed of what he had done, Shuuhei’s eyes were downcast when he spoke. “How did it go, otou-san?”

“Half of them were sold,” his father answered, referring to the bottles of ink he had carried into the next district over. His father looked worn out, and that made Shuuhei worry even more. “I’ll need to leave early tomorrow morning to reach District 75.”

“I’ll come with you,” Shuuhei volunteered. He always said this every time his father returned from one of his sales trips.

However, no matter how many times he offered, his father always repeated the same answer. “No, Shuuhei. The districts I go to are no place for a child.”

“I’m not a child,” he protested. “I can protect myself.”

Again, his father refused. “Safety comes first, son. I cannot have you risk that.”

“What about you?” he said back. “Your safety is important to me.”

His father smiled, his eyes weary as he reached over and patted Shuuhei’s head with affection. “Thank you, son.”

No more was said on the matter. Shuuhei knew that convincing his father otherwise would be futile. His father could be just as stubborn as him when it came to his safety. Shuuhei had noticed the blisters on his father’s feet when he came in, and he was going out tomorrow to a more dangerous district than Black Trail. District 75, known as Rogue Eye, was a den of lions. It was a criminal’s paradise, and any good citizens there were few. His father had some connections there and he knew the place well enough to avoid running into perilous territory, but that did not reassure Shuuhei at all.

The next morning, Shuuhei watched his father depart in silence. He wanted to embrace him, but feared he wouldn’t have the resolve to let go. This trip was necessary, he reminded himself. They desperately needed any money they could get, which led to the crux of the problem: Kento and Daro. As soon as he gained enough strength, the two thugs wouldn’t last another day.

During his father’s absence, Shuuhei had gone into the woods to collect more berries and herbs. Once he’s washed them thoroughly, he decided to go fishing. He had intended to go fishing alone, but he was pleasantly surprised when he saw both of his friends there already.

Taro noticed him first. “Shuuhei!” Hikaru also looked up and smiled at him.

“Hey guys,” he said while folding up his clothes and making his way into the water. “Save some for me?”

His silver haired friend rolled his eyes. “We might have, if you had _told_ us you were coming.”

Shuuhei was sheepish. “It was last minute.”

“We haven’t seen you in forever!” Taro exclaimed, straight to the point. “What’s keeping you? Something wrong?”

 _Oh, everything’s going swell, kiddo,_ the voice snickered.

“Everything’s fine,” Shuuhei dismissed. “It’s just my otou-san. H-he just left to visit District 75.” At this, his two friends went silent, both understood the implications. “I’m worried about him.”

“Worry isn’t going to do you any good, Shuuhei,” Hikaru said quietly. “There’s nothing you can do.”

He shook his head. “I _could_ do something if my otou-san let me go with him! He’s just so...so stubborn and protective. It’s been at least eight years since I came here. I’m not as weak as before. When is he going to realize that I’m not that little kid he first brought in?”

“It’s got to be a parent thing,” Taro said. “My oka-san’s like that.”

“Mine as well,” Hikaru added. “Shuuhei, I’m sure your otou-san only wants what’s best for you.”

“I know,” Shuuhei admitted, “but what’s best for me shouldn’t hinder his wellbeing.”

Hikaru laced an arm over his neck, and smirked. “You’re too selfless, Shu. Since you’re so down, and I happen to be done, I’ll help you get your fill for today. Then, the three of us can hang out and play a round of football. It’ll be fun.”

Typically, when someone brought up football, Shuuhei was all for it. He loved football, but his body was so exhausted and depleted of energy that for the first time, he refused.

His friends, who had known him for the last six years, quickly caught his atypical response.

“You...you’ve never refused a game before,” Taro muttered.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Hikaru quickly followed.

“I’m fine!” Shuuhei said, forcing a smile. “I’m too tired to play. Maybe next time.” He bent down to set down his things before wading into the water. He didn’t notice his friends sharing a concerned glance as he set his spear upright before plunging it into the water—the weapon piercing a fish through and through. The silvery fish writhed around, trying to escape, as Shuuhei lifted it out of the water. Eventually, the creature became still, its life forfeited.

Shuuhei dropped the fish into his basket, and by the time it got dark, his basket was three quarters full; a more than decent amount, thanks to Hikaru’s help. He and his friends parted ways, and Shuuhei returned to the empty shack he called home.

The voice in his head had been quiet for a while, and when it spoke, Shuuhei was taken a little off guard. _You’re too suspicious._

“What?”

 _Your friends,_ it said. _They’re starting to notice something’s up about you._

Shuuhei frowned, recalling how his friends were quieter than usual today. “They’re worried about me. I did tell them where my otou-san had gone after all.”

_Ya sure about that?_

“I am,” he said firmly. “I’ve never mentioned you to anyone. They won’t suspect.”

_And do ya intend to keep hiding me from everyone else?_

The boy hesitated. He still wasn’t sure what the answer to that question would be, but he was leaning towards keeping this voice in his head a secret for as long as he could manage. If people knew, then they’d sooner label him as one of those crazy people with imaginary friends. People would laugh or scorn him. After what happened to Asuya, his friends may think he’s too dangerous to hang around with, especially when they realize how his energy attracted hollows to him like flies. There’s also his father to consider...

“I can’t reveal you,” Shuuhei said at last. “Maybe if I encounter another shinigami like Kensei-san or Mashiro, then I might. Anyone else would label you as my imagination, and we both know you’re more than that-!”

 _Damn right I am,_ the voice muttered.

“...but other people won’t,” he continued, “only another shinigami would understand, and none are here.”

The voice gave an exasperated sigh. _So you’re telling me, that I gotta get used to being your dirty little secret? That ya won’t ever talk to me when others are around?_ Shuuhei felt like apologizing, but the voice wouldn’t hear it. _I hate it when your logic wins, but I like that side of you too. I guess there’s no helping it..._

“Yeah, I’m glad you u-!”

_We’re going to the Academy!_

Shuuhei chortled, bending to his knees when he choked on his own spit. He placed a steady hand on the wall for support. _“T-the Academy?! What for?!”_

_Ya said only a shinigami would understand our situation, right? We’re going to find ourselves a knowledgeable shinigami, explain our circumstances, and for-I mean, get that shinigami to help ya. There’s bound to be tons of shinigami at the academy, or Soul Society-but from what I got from ya, that place is off limits- so the Academy it is!_

“You make it sound so easy,” the boy grumbled. “Shino Academy isn’t a public place! It’s only open to students and people who sign up to take their entrance exams!”

 _Then sign up,_ the voice said simply. _I’m not expecting ya to pass, kiddo. We’re only there to find a shinigami to help us out, and who knows? Maybe checking out how they structure their curriculum could give me some pointers on how to get ya ahead._

Shuuhei sighed, rubbing his temple. “Are you doing this because you want me to get stronger? Or is it because hate being ignored so badly?”

 _Both,_ the voice said easily. _How would ya feel if ya were ignored by your friends half the time? Or if they treat ya like the best pal in the world on some days, and you’re an invisible nobody the next?_

“Alright, I get it,” he replied, sighing. “I’ll sign up, and take their entrance exam, but we’ll have to get my reiatsu high enough to pass the qualifications to take it.”

 _Not a problem,_ the voice smirked. _With our reiatsu combined, they’ll be begging to get us signed up! All ya need to worry about is how you’re going to get into that academy and take that exam without anyone knowing you’re gone._

The boy’s face deadened, giving a scowl. He’d almost forgot about that part. That was the real challenge. “I’ll...I’ll think of something.”

 _That something better be quick too,_ the voice pressed. _The sooner we get a shinigami’s input, the sooner I could teach ya the dangerous stuff, and then you can get that delicious vendetta into action._ The voice paused when it noticed its wielder’s silent demeanor. _Ya still want those bastards gone, right?_

“ _Yeah,_ ” Shuuhei growled, his hands clenching into fists. “You don’t need to remind me, voice.”

 _Good,_ the voice said merrily, _because I’d be REALLY PISSED if ya got cold feet._

-o-

Six months have already passed when an opportunity finally presented itself.

During that time, Shuuhei had been training non-stop. He’d broken more bones in the last six months since he came here nine years ago. The voice had been relentless- pushing and pushing until the boy achieved the physical standards it wanted. His spirit training was also put into daily use, and Shuuhei was proud to say that he could detect any reiatsu within a one mile radius. Again, the voice had scoffed at his naïve impressionism, saying that a mile was child’s play, but Shuuhei didn’t care. He would celebrate any small victory he could earn, because it demonstrated how he was slowly reaching his goal.

He slammed his fist against tree bark, his knuckles prickling each time he disconnected. Making sure to keep his arms and body straight and upright, Shuuhei kept on punching the bark bare-handed, only wincing when his bruises got worse. Before, his hands always ended up with bloody scabs and cuts after this exercise. His father had even caught him once, when he was trying to nurse his injuries at the river. Predictably, his father had asked what had happened, and the boy was forced to lie and say he had fell on some rocks while navigating the forest. His father had looked questionable, but decided to accept his excuse before making Shuuhei promise to come to him whenever he’d injured himself.

Needless to say, his father’s discovery only made Shuuhei even more careful of hiding the efforts of his secret training. He wore long sleeves to hide his scars, he sat down and did housework whenever his legs couldn’t function right, and he spent more time in the woods when his face got too messed up, and he’d only come back when he finished treating his injuries or when it got dark enough to obscure his countenance.

As the training progressed, however, Shuuhei found his body growing more durable. He got bruises instead of cuts, and his healing pace was significantly faster, and he could sense and control his reiatsu with ease. He quickly put his training to a halt when he sensed his father’s small reiatsu approaching the shack.

The dark-haired boy discreetly tucked his hands behind his back as he father peered in. “Shuuhei, I’m going to be gone for the next three weeks.”

“Why?” he asked.

“One of my old colleagues has told me that a family in the upper districts is interested in what I’m offering,” his father said. “According to what my colleague said, it’s possible that the family will offer its patronage.”

Shuuhei’s eyes widened. “T-that’s great! Wouldn’t that mean...”

“If we get their patronage, then we’ll have more to support ourselves,” his father said, “but I’ll understand if you’re hesitant, Shuuhei. I also don’t want to leave you alone for so long-!”

“No, otou-san,” he said, shaking his head. “You don’t need to worry about me! This is a great opportunity, and I don’t want to be the reason you missed it. I’ll be fine alone.”

His father smiled. “I suppose I shouldn’t have worried. I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning, and I’m sure to be back in the afternoon three weeks from now. Also, I noticed you’ve been in the house a lot lately. Your friends had come by once and expressed some concerns.”

“T-they did?” Shuuhei said, recalling the voice’s warnings.

His father nodded. “I hardly see you with Hikaru-kun or Taro-kun, Shuuhei. Did they do something wrong, son?”

 _Told ya so,_ the voice snickered.

“No!” he said immediately. “It’s not them, otou-san. I’ve just been...busy. I’ll try to visit them today.”

His father agreed. “Make sure you do.”

The next morning, Shuuhei embraced his father tightly before the older man left. This time, Shuuhei wasn’t as worried because the district his father was going to was one of the nicer ones. It wasn’t as dangerous as that time he went to District 75 because the paths leading to the upper districts were also well-maintained and secured. He leaned against the door with crossed arms, watching his father until he was out of sight. Now that his father was taken care of, Shuuhei quickly found a way to keep his friends from visiting him while he’s gone to the Academy.

“Your otou-san is _sick_?” Hikaru said in disbelief when Shuuhei showed up at his door. He looked like he didn’t believe it.

 _I wouldn’t believe ya either,_ the voice scoffed. _That’s a dumbass excuse._

Shuuhei ignored it. “He’s very ill, and I heard that some of the symptoms are contagious. If you guys don’t see me, then it’s because I’m taking care of him.”

“But you said it’s contagious,” Hikaru pointed out. “Wouldn’t you get infected too?”

“I can’t leave him,” Shuuhei insisted, “and I’m young. I’ll get better faster.”

“Do you need help?” Hikaru offered.

“N-no Hikaru,” he said, “I rather you don’t get sick because of us. Same with Taro. Look, I know I haven’t been hanging out with you guys for a while...”

“Nine months isn’t ‘a while’, Shu,” Hikaru replied, looking skeptical, “and I don’t count those fishing trips we happened to meet up on. You know you can tell me what’s been bothering you, Shuuhei. Don’t think I didn’t notice those bruises you hide under your shirt.” Shuuhei was too stunned to reply. “I don’t like seeing you like this...”

“I’m sorry,” Shuuhei said quietly. There was nothing else he could say. He now knew his behavior towards his friends was inexcusable, but he couldn’t tell Hikaru the truth. Even if Hikaru believed him, he didn’t want to put his friend into unnecessary danger. His spirit energy levels were growing higher bit by bit, and if it kept going, Shuuhei would eventually have to learn to suppress his reiatsu or else hollows would start appearing.

“Pass on my message to Taro,” Shuuhei said finally. He needed to prepare the journey as soon as he could. Signing up wasn’t a problem since there was an official placed here in District 74, but he didn’t know how soon the next exam would occur after signing. “I’ll see you soon, Hikaru.”

His friend sighed. “I’d like that. Take care, Shu, and your otou-san.”

“I will.”

-o-

True to its predictions, signing up turned out easier than he thought. The official only gave him a brief glance before giving an encouraging smile. Shuuhei was taken aback when a brush was handed to him immediately. It was only later that the boy realized the official had already sensed his decent amount of reiatsu.

“Sign here,” the official told him. Shuuhei took the offered brush, trying to recall his characters, but he didn’t remember what they looked like.

“I...I don’t remember how to write my name,” Shuuhei said sheepishly.

The official only took the brush from his hand and turned the sheet towards him. “Tell me which characters are used and I’ll write it for you.”

“Shuuhei Hisagi. Shuuhei as in _self-discipline_ or _soldier_ , and Hisagi, same as _Japanese Cypress_ and _Tree_.” He recalled his father explaining his name to him before.*

The official scribbled down the characters on the sheet, before he wrote it again on another piece of paper. He handed the extra paper to him. “This is your name, Hisagi-san. Make sure you learn it. I’ve also written the time and place for the entrance exam, which is a week from today at noon.”

“A-arigato,” the boy said sincerely before taking the offered piece of paper. The official only heaved a sigh and called the next person after him.

There weren’t many people in line, but Shuuhei already knew he was the youngest (and smallest) in the group. As he walked past, a group of men who were still awaiting their turn were whispering jeering comments.

_“Does he think the shinigami have any use for brats?”_

_“He’s so small and thin. He doesn’t look like he eats enough...”_

_“Kid still got his head in the clouds...”_

_“I bet he was forced to sign up, kicked out of his family...”_

No matter how much he wanted to talk back, and tell them that it was none of their damn business, the boy forced himself to keep his mouth shut. There was an official watching, and there was only one of him. He wasn’t even taking the exam to get _in_ the Academy, but meet a shinigami that could help him with his situation. He should shake off their ignorant, crass words, and hold his head up high.

But even when he finally returned back home, their words of contempt and doubt kept echoing in his mind. Shuuhei gritted his teeth, and for a moment, he wished he wasn’t a boy, but a man. No one would look twice his way when he signed up. His father would be able to rely on him more, and they wouldn’t have to rely on thugs for protection. He’d have the means to provide and protect. He’d have the freedom to go where he wanted, when he wanted.

Unfortunately, he’d been stuck looking like a twelve year old for the past nine years, and it would take longer before he looked like an adolescent, and even longer for him to look like an adult. He may look like a child, but Shuuhei knew that his mind was well past that stage, as any child would be if they’ve lived through what he did.

 _Growing up fast ain’t always a good thing, Shuuhei,_ the voice replied.

“Really? I think it would be,” he said sardonically. “You’re always making fun of me because of my age. You suddenly got a change of heart?”

 _Ya misunderstand me...kid,_ the voice purposely added. Shuuhei rolled his eyes. _Being a kid does come with extra baggage: people don’t respect ya, they look down on ya, but they UNDERESTIMATE you. You got a good head on your shoulders, Shuuhei. Better than most of those so called ‘adults’ I’ve seen. The fact that you’re still a kid and still got years ahead of ya makes it BETTER. You’d get to enjoy being young and naïve. This is your time to make mistakes and learn from them._

Shuuhei opened his grey eyes, the weight of those scornful insults already lightening. “Learning from mistakes, huh? You must expect a lot of failure from me, voice.”

 _Of course I do,_ it answered. _Best fail as a brat than when you’re all grown up. I may be lenient with ya now, but I won’t tolerate ANY failure couple decades down the line. I sooner beat sense into ya than see ya fail!_

“Sounds like you care about me after all,” Shuuhei said, his tone slightly teasing.

 _You’d end up in a ditch somewhere without MY HELP,_ the voice muttered. _Ya know nothing, and as the superior in this relationship, it’s my duty to teach ya everything ya need to know to survive-!_

“Don’t get cocky, voice,” the boy grumbled. “I’ve survived here long before you showed up!”

 _Tch, you mean getting your ass handed to ya by thugs and crying like a baby,_ the voice mocked.

“I’m not a baby!” the boy said heatedly.

_My bad, a BIG baby bawling its eyes out so hard, the hollows are quivering with their goddamn shit._

“Not funny,” Shuuhei growled.

The voice only laughed demonically as the boy crossed his arms and pouted. Unknowingly, the voice had distracted Shuuhei enough to forget about those insults he heard, and the boy was able to sleep soundly for the rest of the night.

-o-

When the day of the exam finally arrived, Shuuhei could hardly contain his excitement. He had packed up all the things he needed for the trip three days in advance, and he could hardly sleep the night before. The entrance exam took place within the Academy grounds, and while Shuuhei wasn’t permitted to see the main administration buildings or the dormitories, he was excited nonetheless. There had to be a shinigami instructor overseeing the exam, and he hoped to speak with him or her when it ended.

The exam was divided to two parts: a written and a practical. Shuuhei wasn’t sure how well he did on the practical. He didn’t know how to convert his spirit power to offensive purposes, like kido. He’s never held a sword before, so his swordsmanship skills were subpar at best. His hand to hand combat was above average for his age, but his speed wasn’t where it needed to be. He saw the instructors sharing glances and writing things down after he completed each part. Shuuhei didn’t need to look up to know the instructors didn’t believe a kid like him could pass.

But even if he had pass the practical, Shuuhei knew he _flunked_ the written part.

Other than writing down his name, and some basic kanji—Shuuhei could barely _read_ , much less write anything down. Most souls from the lower districts were illiterate, and the voice in his head had raged how the exam purposely weeded out those from poorer backgrounds. From what he gathered, most of the questions were about how Soul Society was structured, who were the current captains, history on the major noble families and their associations, as well as the tasks shinigami were expected to perform on duty. Shuuhei knew next to nothing about any of these subjects, and his newfound ignorance only added fuel to the voice’s ire.

 _This is bullshit!_ The voice had said. _Do ya think hollows care what your damn captain’s name is? Do they think hollows care what position some damn shinigami holds? Hell no! The damn hollows too busy dodging sword blows to care! Ridiculous. **_

“I think it’s more about how shinigami conduct themselves towards each other and other souls,” Shuuhei reasoned. “I mean, the shinigami are the military, an organization. It’s important to know who your superiors are, and how to represent the force.”

 _Hypocrites,_ the voice seethed. _I doubt all shinigami behave as they are described on paper. What a load of bull..._

Silently, Shuuhei agreed. He wasn’t against authority figures (like Kensei had proven), but he wasn’t fond of them either. From what he heard, the rich and powerful always had their own agendas, and those agendas often benefitted their inner circles rather than the general public. Shuuhei could never devote his life fighting for those kinds of individuals. For all he knew, Kensei could have been the oddball. If there were more shinigami like him around, then Rukongai wouldn’t have sunk as low as it was now.

When the exam was over, all the exams were quickly collected and everyone soon filed out. The instructor quickly left too, much to the boy’s dismay. He had hoped to ask the instructor some questions.

 _I’ll have to find someone else_ , Shuuhei thought. He left the empty room and joined the retreating test-takers outside.

He wandered around, looking for any black-kimono individuals, and he finally spotted two of them by a double door entrance. The two shinigami were answering a woman’s questions as Shuuhei sprinted towards them, his face flushed.

“...just take a turn down that hall, and you’ll find the room you’re looking for,” one of them was saying. The woman quietly thanked them and left, leaving Shuuhei with the shinigami.

The younger of the two, a man with narrow eyes and short hair, asked, “Do you need something, kid?”

Shuuhei nodded, and he noted the swords they have strapped to their waist. “I have some questions I hope you two could answer. I notice how you both have your own swords?”

“That’s right,” the other man said, looking proud as he looked down at his weapon. “We got these after we graduated from the Academy. I’ve never felt so accomplished since that day.”

“Same here,” his companion agreed.

Shuuhei was confused. “I thought students also get their own swords when they first enter?” He recalled the instructors mentioning that in the beginning.

“They do,” the shinigami answered, “but those swords aren’t official. Those are standard, nameless _asauchi,_ that isn’t all that special. The ones you get after graduating are specialized and can be called your own because they are forged from our souls.”

_Forged from our souls..._

“Can you explain that part?” Shuuhei asked, feeling a tinge of excitement. “How can a weapon be forged from your soul? It sounds painful.”

“Swords are given their own identity when the owner pours in enough reiatsu,” the younger man explained. “You know what reiatsu is, right?” Shuuhei nodded briskly. “So the academy teaches us ways of strengthening our reiatsu for this reason too. The younger years are tasked with learning sword techniques, while the fifth to seventh years also focus on _jinzo,_ blade meditation. After a while, there should be an established communication with this ‘sword spirit’, or so they say.”

“You’re not sure?” Shuuhei asked.

“We haven’t got that far,” the older shinigami said. “Our blades are still nameless, and we just graduated recently.”

“But I can’t wait to meet my sword spirit,” the other said excitedly. “I’ve been putting in a lot of time into jinzo. It’s bound to show up eventually.”

“Tell me when it does, Daiya-san,” his friend said. “I’d treat you to sake if you manage that before me!”

Daiya laughed, “I’ll remember that, Yusuke.” He turned to Shuuhei. “You took the exam, right? If you make it in, you’ll get your own sword soon enough.”

Shuuhei was surprised by the encouragement. “You think I’ll make it in?”

“As long as you tried, I don’t see why not.”

“Really?” Shuuhei tested. “You don’t think I’m _too young_?”

Daiya rolled his eyes. “Age shouldn’t matter if you’re talented, but I guess we’re the only ones that think so, huh? Or maybe they haven’t heard the news. Yusuke, you heard about that child prodigy right?”***

“Yeah, I think he also graduated recently,” Yusuke murmured. “I doubt he’s that much older than this kid here. I heard he’s also been assigned a seated position in the 5th squad.”

“Scary,” Daiya muttered.

“But what about those sword spirits?” Shuuhei pressed. He didn’t care about child prodigies at this point. He was not going to let this trip become a waste. “Is there anything else you know?”

Yusuke shrugged. “They say sword spirits can communicate with their wielders telepathically, right?” he asked Daiya, who nodded in affirmation. “And that only happens after a person gets their official sword.”

“Wait, _after_?” Shuuhei clarified. “W-what about _before_ getting a sword?”

“Before? No, that’s impossible,” Yusuke dismissed. “How can you communicate with a sword spirit without first getting the sword? That won’t make any sense.”

Shuuhei shook his head quickly, not believing the shinigami’s claim for a second. He had a voice in his head and he lacked a sword! Something wasn’t right. “That can’t be, there has to be an exception-!”

“Look, kid,” Yusuke interrupted, “we told you what we already know. It’s what we’ve been taught, and if there really was an exception, it hasn’t been discovered. Besides, why do you want to learn about sword spirits anyway?”

Shuuhei faltered, “I, well, it was just out of curiosity. I wanted to learn as much as I could about how shinigami use their weapons, so...” He’s decided to not to mention the voice in his head once he realized how adamant the two shinigami were on this topic. They wouldn’t believe him, and rebuking a senior shinigami didn’t sit well with the young boy, especially when they have patiently answered so many of his questions.

The two shinigami appeared to accept his sheepish answer, and Daiya placed a hand on his head and ruffled his hair playfully. “You seem like a smart kid. What’s your name?”

“Shuuhei Hisagi,” he answered.

“Hisagi,” Yusuke murmured, then he looked over when someone called their names. “Looks like our shift is over. Best luck on your exam, Hisagi-kun. When you do make it and graduate, sign up for the thirteenth division! We’ve got our own prodigy too!”****

“I’ll think about it,” Shuuhei said, giving a curt bow as the two shinigami excused themselves and left their post for other tasks.

After the two shinigami left, Shuuhei lingered around a while longer and met up with other shinigami at their posts, but no matter what questions he asked, they all agreed that a shinigami could only talk to a sword spirit after receiving their official sword. He was even fortunate enough to meet a shinigami who already achieved _shikai_ , a first release, but even he said the same thing. When asked about having mental conversations, the shinigami only advised him to keep talking to the spirit and never ignore it.

“The stronger the bond between a wielder and spirit, the stronger they’ll become,” the shinigami had said. “I speak to mine whenever I get the chance to.”

“Don’t other people find it strange to see you talking to no one?” Shuuhei had asked.

The shinigami shook his head. “It’s commonly accepted here, and I usually speak with my spirit while I’m meditating or asleep. My spirit is lazy, so we don’t really talk during the day...”

Night was approaching by the time Shuuhei decided to go back home. The trip back was silent for the most part, and his mind was still overwhelmed by all the information he gleamed today. Soon, Black Trail came into view. While he trudged along the familiar dirt path and walked past souls entering their homes for the night, the voice in his head finally spoke up.

_I sense you’re disappointed._

Shuuhei heaved a detached sigh. “I am. I thought the shinigami had all the answers. I never thought that you’d turned out to be a special case. Just what am I supposed to do?”

_Ya heard what that shinigami told ya before. Ya don’t have any excuse to ignore me now!_

“Right,” the boy muttered, too tired to argue with it, “are you sure you are what you say you are?”

 _What kind of question is that?!_ The voice said, offended. _I’ve known what I am before you existed!_

“Just checking,” Shuuhei replied. “I thought they’d give me better advice than that, and his situation and mine are completely different! Of course Soul Society would accept talking to spirits as completely normal, but here? I doubt I’d be as lucky.”

 _Luck has nothing to do with it,_ the voice said. _I think the problem lies with you, Shuuhei._

“Me?”

 _Ya care too much about what others think,_ it said. _Ya let others determine what ya should do and what ya shouldn’t. What’s acceptable and what isn’t. That’s no way to live, kiddo._

Instead of defending himself, the boy thought about what the voice said carefully. “Maybe I do, voice, and maybe it isn’t living, but it’s how we survive around here. We break the rules...we get cast out or die for it.”

_Are ya just going to accept that?_

Without reflecting over it, Shuuhei already knew the answer. He’s known since the day he started this second life.

“No, voice,” the boy said, his voice resolute. “I don’t accept it, and will never accept it. I’ll fight it with every ounce of strength I’ve got. I will get out of this place, and you’re going to help me do it.”

He could almost imagine the voice giving a tasteful grin. _I’m with ya every step of the way._

-o-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I found a bleach website that defines each of the character's names in English, and those are the definitions I got for 'Shuuhei Hisagi', which I find quite fitting for his personality.
> 
> **I always found the whole 'announce your name and rank to your opponent before a battle' to be redundant and a bit ridiculous. Since I'm thinking of setting a more realistic tone, I may not use that shounen troupe all the time in this story.
> 
> ***The child prodigy is Gin Ichimaru. Around this time, he has been made 3rd seat under Sosuke Aizen.
> 
> ****Kaien Shiba is another prodigy who graduated from the Academy in only five years. His record was unbeaten until Gin Ichimaru came along.
> 
> Thank you all for reading! Please review!


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